Crescendo
by singsongsung
Summary: Lucas realized that Peyton was The One when it was too late for them both to be together. Years into the future, what will it take for her to stop running from him? Music, scheming, a beloved little girl, and of course: Chris Keller.
1. Prelude

**Crescendo**

**A/N: **So I've lost my mind. I'm not just starting one multi-chapter fic, but two, at the same time. I couldn't help it, though. This idea has been floating around in my head for quite a while, lots of different versions. This is the one, though, this is it, this is what I wanted it to be, and now I want some feedback. Review, please, and read on!

_Crescendo: the climactic point or moment in the gradual, steady increase of intensity_

"Mom!"

The single syllable penetrated through the heavy beat of the music of an up-and-coming band.

Peyton slipped her earphones out and turned away from the three computers in front of her, all of which were essential to the process of efficiently listening to and reviewing demos. She turned around and grinned at the sight of her daughter, whose smile lit her entire face. "Hey, you!" she returned, standing and pulling her girl into a hug. "What's going on?"

Her daughter's eyes lit as she held out a piece of paper. "Look!" she squealed.

Peyton accepted it, a playfully curious expression on her face. As she read, her face slowly lit up, her joy finding its way into each and every pore. She dropped her hands down to her sides as she gazed at her kid. "Oh, honey, this is _amazing_! God, I am so proud of you."

"I know, right?" her daughter asked in that peppy, teenaged tone that Peyton remembered using on rare occasions of pure happiness.

"Yes, _right_," she replied teasingly. She sighed and reached out for another hug. "This is a really huge achievement." She bent down with a playful smile on her lips, ducking her head to meet her daughter's eyes. She caught the glint in those blue eyes, the hesitation and the tinge of fear. Peyton could read her little girl so well that she often wondered if she recognized her daughter's emotions more easily than she recognized her own. "Baby, what is it?" she asked softly.

"It's _all_ summer," was the soft, hesitant answer.

Peyton sighed and wrapped an arm around the fourteen-year-old. She walked both of them over the blood red couch and sat them down without breaking their embrace. "Talk to me, kiddo."

Her daughter's gaze was firmly fixed on her Converse shoes. "I've never been away from you that long."

"Honey…trust me when I say that I will miss you more than anything, but I _know _you can do this. It's one summer, the opportunity of a lifetime."

"I know that. I just…I'm not ready for that yet. I know that you basically lived alone through your teens but…you're always here for me. I need you," she admitted.

"Hey. Trust me when I say that I need you right back. But babe, I love you too much to keep you from this."

Her kid's feet tapped nervously as she stole a few glances up at Peyton's face, looking into her understanding eyes for the briefest of seconds. "I like it here in the summer. My friends and all the shows and the musicians and…I just like being here."

Peyton let the lame excuses settle into the air around them, allowing just enough time for her daughter to become uncomfortable before coming to her rescue. She didn't want to torture her; she just wanted to prove her point. Gently, she asked, "You gonna cut the crap and really talk to me, or are we going to have this conversation for a while longer?" She sighed. "I know you can live without me for eight weeks. I know you can, you have my strength in you, I can see it. I am always only a phone call away, and you have to know by now that if you needed me I would be there right away to rescue you. Do you know that?" At her little girl's reluctant nod, she continued, "I love having you around to help out, and I love that you're enthusiastic about this. I know you love your friends. But it's eight weeks. Nothing is going to end in that time, I promise you that."

"I do…want to go."

"So what's stopping you?" Peyton laughed, raising her eyebrows. "This is everything I could have dreamed of for you. This could be the summer where things change. Really change. What more can you ask for than to have a moment like that?"

"I don't know," she shrugged.

Sudden tears pricked at Peyton's eyes, tears she hadn't realized were lingering until they appeared. Her kid was alarmed. "Mom?"

"I'm fine, I'm sorry." She wiped at her eyes and took a shaky breath in. "Listen to me, okay? I will miss you like hell. You're the most organized assistant in the entire world, and you're also my kid, so I feel a little attached to you, you know?" she asked in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. The small, delicate smile she received let her know of her success. "And that means that I love you. I can't let you…not do this. You would regret it, I know you would."

"What if I end up there and I regret going? How the hell can you guarantee that that won't happen?" her daughter shot back.

Peyton raised a single eyebrow at the behaviour that would have prompted Brooke to call the fourteen-year-old _Mini-Peyton_. "Then you've learned something. Come on, babe, you can't expect me not to allow you to go. I want to protect you, but keeping you from this would be a selfish mistake." She let her eyebrow fall back to its natural position. "But you already knew that."

Her daughter slumped forward with a sigh, resting her head in her hands tiredly. Peyton reached over to stroke her long, wavy blonde hair. "I would really like it if you would talk to me right now," she said softly. "Most of the time I don't want to know what your thoughts are on the cute singer of that new band I just signed, but right now I would kill to read that mind of yours. What are you thinking, hon?"

"Mom." That meaningful syllable again, on an exhale, a sad sigh. The equally slender, equally blonde girl sat up to face her mother. "Mom, I just…"

"Shh," Peyton said immediately when she spotted the tears on her teenager's cheeks. "You know you can tell me anything. I'm not here to judge."

The emotional intensity of the moment was broken by the scepticism in her daughter's glare.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"The last time you said that I told you about what happened in the back of Matt's car, and you were just a _little bit_ judgmental about that, don't you think?"

Peyton gasped. "Oh, don't you dare, you are fourteen years old!"

The reply she got was a scoff of: "Oh, like you were a virgin when you were fourteen." At her mother's incredulous, open-mouthed stare, she quickly added, "I still am!" She groaned. "We're a little off-topic now," she said pointedly.

"Hey," Peyton said threateningly. That part of the conversation was far from over.

"Nothing's happened, Mom, I promise you. Can we please stop discussing this?"

The pink flush of embarrassment and the nervous, hesitant way her daughter looked at her broke Peyton's heart a little. There were a lot of moments, growing up, when she would have killed for a conversation like this. If she had actually had the chance, she was sure she would've gotten just as flustered, but she still wished she could've had those moments of squirming under her mother's unforgiving gaze, even if she would've hated it at the time. She felt tears pushing at her lower lids and she blinked quickly. At least this time she'd felt her impending tears in time to keep them at bay. If there was one thing she hated, it was that powerless crying that she couldn't put a stop to. She'd done enough of it throughout her life. She'd promised herself long ago that she was done.

She refocused her attention on her daughter, who was looking at her hopefully, waiting to go back to the ever-so-slightly less uncomfortable topic of what was beginning to seem like her inevitable departure. Peyton smiled. "New subject if you'll give me total honesty." She offered her fist.

With a dramatic sigh, the younger blonde punched, tapping her knuckles against those of her mother. "Deal."

"Thank you. Now talk," Peyton ordered lightly.

Her daughter met her eyes with such hesitance that it hurt Peyton to see her kid so tentative to discuss something with her. Maybe she truly had overreacted about the whole Matt incident.

But when her mini-me spoke, she immediately realized why there'd been so much effort put in to the single, simple, heavy word she said: "Dad."

Peyton's tears resurfaced, and she had to fight a little bit harder to keep them back. They didn't talk about the D-word much. Peyton had seen many different examples of single parenthood in the people she held closest to her, and over the years had learned what worked, what failed, and what you couldn't control. She dedicated her life to her child, and had ever since the little girl had appeared in her life. Music and art, her greatest passions, fell second to the one true love of her life. All she had left over, and all she really had to live for.

She multitasked in her own role as a mother. She was a mom, first and foremost; it was her most important role and duty. But she also tried her hardest to be a dad at times. For her athletic daughter's sake, she reviewed all the basketball lingo she'd learned from the sidelines of high school basketball games. She never missed one of her kid's games, though admittedly, she tended to doodle in her sketchbook, especially when her own daughter wasn't on the court at the moment. When it was playoff time she let the cheerleader in her resurface and she screamed as loud as she could for the team. She always indulged in girl talk, but she also worried that no boy would ever be enough for her kid. Sometimes it was so easy, playing the roles of both parents, and sometimes it was just too hard.

Peyton was parental, but also playful. It was the one thing she could never resist doing, trying to befriend her own kid. They weren't that far apart in age, it wasn't as though there was a forty-year age gap between them or anything. Peyton could easily remember what it was like to be younger, and how much it truly could suck. She wanted to be there as a confidante, too.

All in all, she wanted to be the best possible parent she could be. Her daughter's existence in her life was somewhat of a fluke, and she was stubbornly determined to do it all _right_. She'd had Anna Sawyer and Ellie Harp as mothering role models, no matter for how short a time, and she'd promised herself from the get-go that she would do them proud. She had to. For her moms, for her daughter, and also for herself.

"Come here," Peyton said quietly. Her daughter leaned into her side, partially stretched out on the couch. Peyton planted a couple kisses on her forehead. She listened to her kid sniffle for a couple minutes, soothingly rubbing her arm, before she asked, "What do you mean?"

"What if I can't do it…in a way that would…mean something…what if I mess up?" She started to cry in earnest. "God, Mom, I'm not even making any sense."

"Shh, sweetie, of course you are," Peyton assured her. Her response was automatic, but sincere. Why hadn't she seen this coming over the years? She'd lived the single-parent life, even the no-parent life. Their situations weren't exactly similar, but she could sympathize with her child. "What could you possibly have to prove to him?"

"That I'm good enough," was the whispered answer.

"Good enough for what?" Peyton shook her head. "You are already more than that. More than enough."

"You're my mom," her daughter groaned through her tears. "You have to say that. I need to prove that I'm good enough to accomplish something with my life, something he'd really be proud of."

"No. I don't just have to say that. I could just tell you that you don't have to prove anything to him – which you don't. But if you did, you already would have, a long time ago. You don't need to feel like you owe him anything, babe. I can't understand why you would think that."

"I just…do."

Peyton rested her chin on the teenager's forehead. "Fair enough," she sighed. "Just know that he loved you. That he loves you, still. And that you have been good enough since the moment you were born. Everything you've ever done was beyond good enough."

"Yeah, right. That makes sense," she said sarcastically, in her Mini-Peyton prime.

"Okay, kiddo, sure. I get it, the whole people leaving, feeling abandoned thing. Been there, done that, bought about a thousand postcards. Designed some of my own postcards, in fact, that's how many times I've made the trip. I don't want anger, or sadness, or a fixation with what could have been, what may have been. I don't want that for you, I've been fighting against it and I'm not going to lose. People do not leave because of anyone. Maybe, on rare occasions, they do, but that person has never been – hell, will never be – you."

Quiet blanketed the blondes comfortably for nearly fifteen minutes. Peyton allowed a single tear to escape as she wordlessly comforted her daughter, stroking her hair soothingly. She would always hold a bit of guilt when it came to her losses in life, and it hurt her everyday. If people left because of anyone, it would be Peyton. Her daughter wasn't going to place the blame on herself. Maybe she was selfishly reserving the right to guilt for herself, but she was also protecting her baby, and she couldn't really be blamed for that.

"Hey," she said softly. They both straightened up and she gently wiped her daughter's tears away. "What'd'ya say, honey? Are you going?"

With watery eyes and a timid but genuine smile, she said, "Yeah, guess I am."

Peyton grinned and stuck out her tongue. "That's my girl!" she declared proudly as her fourteen-year-old stuck her tongue out, too. Peyton pointed to the letter from the camp that had floated to the floor in all the commotion. "Go grab that and let's talk details, okay?"

Her daughter hopped up to retrieve it before flopping back down onto the couch next to her mom. "Okay."

Peyton smiled, glad to see happiness surfacing in her daughter's eyes. "I only read the first couple sentences. Why don't you tell me everything in there?"

With a shrug, she said, "Okay," and began to read the letter aloud, skipping over the introductory paragraph which informed her of her acceptance into the camp. "_The _Crescendo Music Camp (CMC) _accepts only twelve serious music students from the ages of fourteen to eighteen each year and allows them the opportunity to enjoy one of America's best musical advisory experiences. The students convene in a calm, secluded environment where they study music theory and also gain remarkable musical experiences. Group classes are conducted on a scheduled weekly basis, but the true advantage of _CMC_ is the fact that each of the twelve lucky accepted applicants is given a mentor. Their mentors have extensive experience with the passion, performance, and professionalism necessary for the best musical careers. Mentors take the summers off and fly away to _CMC_'s location, which changes yearly. Away from fans and the press, they have agreed to dedicate all of their time to their students. _

_"_CMC_'s mentoring musicians are so dedicated to their work that they agree to fund their students with their own earnings, meaning that participants board with their mentors for the summer. Each student must pay a 500.00 dollar fee. Everything is included for that price: a place to stay, food, teaching, musical performances, and 100.00 dollar credit at the local music store._

_"The musicians of _CMC_ are excited to have you joining us this year. In the attached envelope, you will find the name and address of your mentoring musician. Payment for the program in expected within the week of the applicant automatically forfeits their place in the camp. _

_"Welcome to the crescendo in your life's story. Sincerely, the director, Chris Keller."_ She stopped reading, looking sheepishly up at her mother.

Peyton stared at her, open-mouthed. "Um…sweetheart, you never told me that _Chris Keller_, Chris freaking Keller, was the director of this camp."

"It was for a good reason. I wanted to know if I could make it. You said it yourself, Mom, it's an amazing opportunity that I'd be stupid not to take…remember? I didn't want you to say know because of Chris Keller. He's a musical magician, but I know you hate his stuff."

"Oh, no," Peyton said with a small laugh. "I don't hate his stuff. He's a good musician, you're right. I could never deny him that. I hate _him_. The man. Chris…Keller. Chris Keller."

"How can you hate him? You don't even know him."

Peyton stood and began to pace nervously. "Oh, believe me, baby, I know him."

"Mom. You just said yourself that you'd never take this away from me."

"Oh, honey, I wouldn't, I just…you're going to be spending the summer with Chris Keller. I just don't know if I can…Chris Keller," she sighed. Of all people. Fate could be cruel to her. "Well, where is it? You never know, babe, the camp might be close."

Her kid ripped open the envelope recklessly. "Um…some place called Tree Hill, North Carolina. Tree Hill. A hill that's a tree? A tree that's a hill? That's a weird name," she giggled.

Peyton felt a little bit dizzy, and she had one of those horrible feelings about what was coming next. It could only be one thing. One person. A woman she'd once loved and considered one of her best friends. A woman she hadn't spoken to in ten years. One she intended never to let into her life ever again. "Who's your mentor, sweetie?" she asked faintly.

"Oh my God!" her teenager cried, jumping up and down for a couple seconds before collecting herself. "It's Haley James Scott!"

She sat back down on the couch heavily. Oh, God. Oh, how perfectly screwed up could her life possibly get? She thought she'd peaked a few years ago. "Honey…you can't go."

"Mom! You just talked me into it! Don't…Mom, _why_?"

"Chris Keller," Peyton said meekly. She blew out her breath and added, "Haley James Scott."

"I _love_ Haley James Scott, Mom, she's so cool."

Peyton smirked at how very stereotypical her blue-eyed, blonde-haired teenager sounded at that moment. She looked so beautiful and alive. Peyton felt like she'd achieved something in that moment, but also like it was slipping away from her. "Please don't be mad at me for this," she said slowly, preparing to devastate her child by taking away the summer dream that Peyton herself had been encouraging moments ago.

"Mom! Please! You can't…please don't do this to me…Mama," she pleaded, pulling out the baby name as her very last resort.

Peyton squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want you to regret anything," she said slowly, repeating her earlier sentiment.

"So I can go?" came the hopeful question.

"I just really don't want to regret anything either," Peyton whispered, looking directly into her kid's eyes.

"I don't understand."

"I…I know you don't. You shouldn't. But…Chris Keller," she said again, just as lamely. Chris Keller was not the biggest problem. Her daughter didn't know what awaited her in the seemingly innocent small town. Peyton was terrified of all she'd left there. The people she'd loved and left behind out of necessity and fear. Her daughter would be a sitting duck, easy access for them to finally see into Peyton Sawyer's mysterious and tragic life. She didn't know to protect herself. She didn't know that her own mother needed protecting, too.

"Mama. Please?"

The baby name, something she hadn't heard from her daughter's lips in nearly a decade, combined with the angelic pout and the innocence in her baby blues, broke Peyton down almost instantly. She'd learned a lot in her twenty-nine years. Sometimes you needed to face your demons. Peyton liked to hide, but now that they had come to fight her, she wasn't going to back down like she used to. She had to take care of herself, and the fourteen-year-old she'd dedicated her life to. She could be stronger.

"You can go…"

"_Yes_!" she cheered loudly.

Peyton gave her a pointed look. "But I'm coming with you."

"Mom!" her daughter cried, embarrassed and enraged. "No! I'm already going to be the baby, I can't go there taking my _mommy _with me, I can't look stupid in front of Haley James Scott! I don't want –"

Peyton cut her off, already knowing that she had won. Or perhaps lost. Fate really had something against her, because after years of studious avoidance, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer was returning to Tree Hill. She looked right into her daughter's eyes, her stubborn pride easily visible in her green orbs. "Take it or leave it, Jenny."

**A/N: **Surprise. Did you see that coming? Please review, especially if you're interested in reading more.


	2. Courante

**A/N:** Thanks for the great response, everyone. If you read, please review...but in the meantime, read on!

Courante: the triple-time movement which often follows an opening, or prelude

"If you're so miserable about this, why don't you just let me _go alone_? Like _everyone else gets to_? I know you don't want to leave your job for eight weeks. I mean, _can_ you even leave your job for eight weeks?"

"Jenny, stop talking and start packing."

"I'm already packed and you know it. Mom, I don't understand you."

Peyton sighed. "That makes two of us, kid." Her office space, which was an airy, gorgeous loft, had post-its and lists stuck all over the walls to remind her employees of all the routine tasks that Peyton herself usually took care of. She needed to finish getting everything organized in the next hour, and Jenny's whining wasn't exactly helping her productivity. She took her wallet out of her purse and handed her daughter thirty dollars. "Will you go pick up pizza?"

Jenny sighed. It wasn't exactly a subtle way to get rid of her. "Mom, can you rethink this, please, for me?"

"I know you don't get it, babe, but I'm doing this for you."

"For yourself," Jenny countered.

"A little bit of both, then. Will you please go get us some food?"

"Fine," Jenny huffed, throwing on her jean jacket and accepting the cash. "Greek?" she asked hopefully, despite Peyton's aversion to feta cheese.

She smiled indulgently, thankful that they'd moved on from the subject of their imminent journey. "Whatever you want."

"Ha!" Jenny cried triumphantly on her way down the stairs. "You _so_ feel guilty. You never let me get Greek pizza!"

Peyton waited until she heard the door slam before she relaxed, slumping into a chair. When she woke up the next morning, she'd get into a taxi and then onto a plane that was headed directly for Tree Hill. She was fully packed. Her assistant was fully prepared to handle everything in her absence. She made sure that Jenny had everything she could possibly need. She'd already dealt with her more temperamental musicians, assuring them that everything would be taken care of throughout the whole summer. She was completely ready for the trip, but her heart wasn't.

To her old friends, her high school gang, the people she'd once loved as her family, Peyton Sawyer had all but dropped off of the face of the earth. She couldn't hide her label – they knew she was living in L.A. and about her work – but she hid herself. When she started up her label, every single one of them tried to contact her, but she didn't allow it to happen. Brooke went as far as to fly to Los Angeles, but Peyton was on her home turf there. She managed to avoid Brooke masterfully. Her ex-best friend did not give up, to her credit. Peyton had a stalker for a couple weeks; Brooke was so thorough and insistent in her search that Peyton began to think that she'd preferred Psycho Derek. One day, her assistant called to let her know that Brooke had left a letter for her at work.

Brooke regretfully said that she would leave Peyton alone, if that was what she really wanted. She said that she hoped that Peyton was happy with her life. She promised that she'd always be there, no matter what, and that everyone missed Peyton in Tree Hill and would welcome her back. She pleaded for some form of contact but declared that she'd back off, and she'd make sure that everyone else did, too. No more sly calls from Nathan, no more care packages from Haley. She was sorry. For everything. Her letter brought Peyton to tears, but it was the extra envelope within the legal-sized one that had wreaked emotional havoc. She was cordially invited to the wedding of Brooke Penelope Davis to Lucas Eugene Scott. A handwritten note on orchid-decorated stationary asked her to be a bridesmaid.

Had Brooke really thought that she would attend? Had she _really _thought that Peyton would agree to be _in _the wedding? Peyton had told Brooke that she still had feelings for Lucas. Brooke had slapped her and accused her of betraying their friendship. Her relationship with Lucas was even more complicated than that. Nothing in the world could have gotten Peyton to that wedding. It would have been too hard not to stand up like some desperately pathetic soap opera character and beg Lucas not to make a mistake. She'd had her chance. She'd fucked it up. And most importantly, she had Jenny to worry about.

She was never going to go back. That had been her game plan. But if anyone could screw up a plan, it was Chris Keller, and he sure as hell had. She didn't doubt that he knew exactly who Jenny was, and she didn't doubt that he'd heard – from Brooke – that Peyton must have gone back to Jake in Savannah when she disappeared after Naley's second wedding.

So he was playing some sort of sick joke on her, and there were only two things that Peyton now knew for sure.

She was going to shield Jenny from all the drama if it killed her.

And she was going to slap Chris Keller again. Repeatedly. And hard.

* * *

Haley ran a brush through her hair before gathering it up into a knot atop her head. She studied her reflection critically, arms akimbo, wondering if she looked like a carelessly cool musician. She turned to study her profile, posing playfully as she pursed her lips.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

Haley jumped and whirled around, blushing. Her eleven-year-old son was squinting at her in confusion, a basketball in his hands. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked with a nervous laugh.

"Long enough to see you model," he shrugged, still looking as though he was worried about her mental health.

"Ha…yeah, I was just…do you think I look like a rock star?" she asked, only partially teasing.

"Sure?"

Haley sighed. "Never mind, honey. Where are you going, the river court?"

Jamie nodded. "Yeah, I'm going to take Noah and Nick," he told her, referring to his six-year-old twin brothers.

"Aw, baby, thanks. That's very sweet of you. Be careful, okay? Your dad's at home for the afternoon, but I have to go to the airport."

Jamie looked alarmed. "You're going somewhere?"

"No, my little prodigy is getting here today. Remember, we talked about this? You're going to be stuck with another musician in the house for the summer."

"Right. Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?" Haley asked, giving her full attention to her firstborn when she saw the uncertainty in his eyes. "We'll still have time to…hang out, right?"

Haley's heart melted. "Of _course_, Jamie, I promise. No teenaged musician is going to want to spend every minute doing boring stuff with me."

"_Mom_. I told you, stop calling me that!"

Haley rolled her eyes. "Sorry, James Lucas Scott."

"Mom!"

"Jamie, you can't just expect everyone to start calling you J. Luke all the time. I know you think it sounds cool –"

"Yeah, way cooler than my baby name. Stop calling me Jamie."

Haley shook her head and smiled at him. She ruffled his hair fondly. "I gave birth to you and I named you. I'm going to call you whatever I want. You and your brothers be safe okay?"

Jamie sighed, frustrated with her. "We will."

"Promise?"

"I promise," he said impatiently.

"Okay. Off you go. I love you!" Haley called after him.

Nathan appeared in the doorway of the room moments after his son ran off. "Hey, you look like a rock star," he commented.

Haley scoffed. "Hey, you were listening to our conversation. But thank you anyway," she added, leaning up for a kiss. "Thanks for being okay with this. I'm really looking forward to it."

Nathan shrugged, a teasing gleam in his eyes. "I think it's great, adopting a teenage girl for two months. I mean, you're such a great wife, just setting me right up for my summer affair."

Haley hit his chest, lightly pushing him away. "Don't be an ass."

He smiled at her. "No, seriously, it'll give us a little insight into what it'll be like to have a teenager in the house. And it's a great opportunity for both you and your camper…does she have a name, by the way?"

"Ah," Haley said as she walked away from her husband, picking up and scarf from a nearby chair and looping it loosely around her neck, "that's the mystery."

Nathan leaned against the doorframe. "I wasn't aware that there was a mystery."

She nodded. "Chris won't tell me her name."

He frowned. "Why the hell not?" Haley could tell how hard he was fighting to like Chris, but even the little things set him off.

"I really have no clue, he was acting so strangely when I was over there. I guess I'll just have to let the poor kid introduce herself to me. I'm really looking forward to this, Nate," she added pointedly, a nice way of saying, _Don't ruin this for me_.

"I know. You've been bouncing around, cleaning and preparing for a week." He smiled at her affectionately. "Now get out of here and go pick your little prodigy up. You better hope she's ugly," he added with a raise of his eyebrows.

Haley gave him a look. "Not funny anymore."

"A little funny," Nathan shrugged, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes and set a pair of sunglasses on top of her head. CMC was a secretive, truly beneficial camp, and for the summer Haley James Scott needed to disappear off the radar. She had to be careful to avoid any paparazzi attention. "Okay, Jamie took the twins to the river court…he has the emergency cell, so I'm sure he'll call if he needs you…you can take care of Sebastian, right?"

"You mean, can I take care of our two-year-old? Jeez, Hales, I don't know, it's not like I haven't done it before."

"Okay, shut up already." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping her arms fully around his neck. He groaned in protest when she pulled away, and she smirked to herself. "Take care of my baby," she instructed him firmly, even though she was a little breathless. "I love you."

"Back at you, Hales," he replied earnestly, giving her a wave as she headed out the door to pick up her mysterious music student.

* * *

"Mom?"

Peyton turned Jenny, arching a single eyebrow to wordlessly encourage her to continue.

"Are you okay? You seem really stressed about all of this." She hesitated, clearly searching for the reason why. "Is there something about Mr. Keller that I should know?"

"Oh, Jen. No. It's just that he…made some trouble back in high school."

Jenny's eyes widened. "You knew Chris Keller in high school?" she cried.

Peyton shushed her – they were on a plane, after all. She inwardly berated herself. For years, she'd kept all of her history hidden from Jenny. She knew it was all about to be revealed to the fourteen-year-old, but she'd wanted to keep her secrets up to the very last minute. She knew she shouldn't let all the information hit Jenny at once, but it was just so hard to have to fill her in. "Um, yeah, I did."

"Oh my God," Jenny cried, staring at her intently. She'd completely forgotten about the movie she'd been absorbed in less than a minute okay. "Did you _date_ Chris Keller? Oh my _God_, have you had _sex_ with Chris Keller?" Jenny hissed, her mouth gaping open in shock.

"Whoa, okay," Peyton said quietly, holding up her hands. "Firstly, I'm really not feeling good about your current obsession with sex. I get it, but I don't like it. I also _really_ don't like the way you just asked me that, as though you wish that _you'd_ had sex with Chris Keller. And in answer to your questions, Jen, no and no. I just happened to know him."

"I can't believe you kept that from me!"

"Jenny," Peyton said sadly, and then stopped. She loved her so much. Jenny looked younger in that moment, her long blonde locks mussed from her restless sleep during the flight, her blue eyes full of curiosity, her dimples showing. She wasn't ready. She needed more time, time that she didn't really have. With a heavy sigh that Jenny would think was playfully dramatic, "I've kept a lot from you."

"Like what?" she demanded instantly. "You've always been all about honesty."

"I know, babe, and I'm sorry," Peyton replied, her heart in her voice.

"Okay, so tell me now."

She closed her eyes and confided an easy secret instead: "I'm not a natural blonde."

Jenny just giggled, rolling her eyes; she knew, of course, that her mother dyed her hair. Peyton loved the bittersweet sound of her laughter. It always made her happy to see Jenny laugh, but it was in those moments when her kid giggled that she was reminded distinctly of Jake. Her hand automatically floated to her collarbone, where the two rings she always wore around her neck had settled against her skin. She had that people-always-leave mindset, but somehow, she had never been bitter about their parting. Once upon a time, Jake had loved her with all of his heart. She knew that, and she knew that it was enough.

Jenny had picked up a bit too much of Peyton's personality, she sometimes thought. She was the same way Peyton had been as a kid, blaming both herself and Jake for his absence in her life. No matter how many times Peyton assured her it wasn't true, she knew it was useless. Jenny would outgrow it, just as she had. Hopefully, just not as painfully, but as they sailed through the air toward Tree Hill, she wasn't so sure about that.

She hated that she'd just lied to Jenny yet again, when she'd been given the opportunity to be truthful. She was all that Jenny had, her role model in countless areas. She didn't want to start telling the tragic story of her history. She'd always intended to keep away from that, both in physical and emotional distance.

She wasn't ready for change, but the pilot's announcement that they were commencing their descent confirmed that it was coming, and quickly, whether she was ready or not. She reached over to run her fingers through Jenny's tangled hair, and her daughter tossed her a smile. Peyton gave her a weak one back. It all felt too much like the beginning of the end. Or the end of the beginning.

* * *

"Daddy! We're home!"

Lucas sighed as he closed his laptop and pushed himself up from his desk chair. His daughter came barrelling into the room, launching herself into his arms with little abandon.

"Whoa, princess," he laughed, scooping her up and swinging her around. His affectionate term for her was really more of a statement of fact. If Miranda Penelope Scott was anything, it was a princess, and she expected the royal treatment at all times. "What'd you girls do today?" she asked as he gently set her back down on the ground.

"Mommy bought me ice cream and she bought a new dress," the five-year-old reported. "It's really pretty. I want a new dress, too, Daddy. Can I have one?"

"Mira, we talked about this," Brooke reprimanded kindly as she walked into the room, shooting her husband a smile and handing him a hot fudge sundae. "Daddy just bought you that _huge_ doll house as an early birthday present, so that's all you get for a while."

Miranda's lower lip slipped out into a pout as she turned back to her father. "Daddy?"

Lucas struggled to stay strong in the face of her adorable expression. "Like your mom said, kiddo."

She held up her hands. "Can I have your sundae?"

He was defenseless against her, and he handed it over, leaving the triumphant little girl to skip off to the kitchen. Lucas looked up at his wife helplessly. "It's just the way she looks at me," he shrugged.

Brooke shook her head fondly, crossing the room and pushing him back into his chair. He raised his eyebrows as she settled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. When they broke for air, he smirked at her. "Did the mall make you miss me?"

She laughed. "I always miss you." She planted a few kisses on his jaw before she hesitantly asked, "Have you thought about it?"

He sighed heavily. He'd been hoping the subject wouldn't come up. "Brooke, I love Miranda with all my heart, and having another baby sounds like a really good idea, but realistically…we don't have the money right now. This house is just…gigantic, and our money's going so many places. I'm sorry."

She must have seen the genuine sympathy in his eyes, because she accepted his words instead of fighting with him. He knew that she wasn't giving up, but that she'd at least leave it alone for the day. "We'd have enough money if you'd stop spoiling that girl so much," she teased, leaning in to kiss him again.

He pulled back, giving her a gentle smile. "Maybe after my next book gets published, alright?"

"Speaking of which," she said, looking pointedly at his laptop. "How's that going for you?"

"Good," he lied with a nod. "A lot better."

"Good, baby, that's great." She gave him another searing, demanding kiss. "After your next book. Okay?"

He sighed. He couldn't argue with her stubborn streak forever, and he did want a son or another girl to dote on. "Okay," he agreed softly.

* * *

Haley pulled the scarf from around her neck as she stood in the Arrivals area of Tree Hill's airport. There were no cameras or kids sporting _H.J.S_ or _I Heart Haley _tees in sight, so she figured she was fairly safe.

The flight coming in from L.A. had left about twenty minutes late, which meant that Haley, who'd allowed herself an extra ten minutes, was half an hour early. She browsed through the gift shops and paced the area multiple times. She couldn't sit. She was too excited and impatient.

She was completely mystified by Chris' refusal to tell her the name of the young musician she was going to be mentoring for the next eight weeks. She'd pleaded with him, yelled at him, and pouted at him, but he wouldn't give in. She speculated: was she a really big fan, or someone Haley might've already heard of, or a kid that was troubled in some way? He told her nothing. Chris Keller had that scheming glint in his eyes, but he told her absolutely nothing. "She'll be able to find you at the airport, Hales," was all he said. "Any good musician knows of Haley James Scott. I'll let her introduce herself." It was infuriating. Haley had talked to the other eleven mentors, and they all had names and brief bios of their students.

When people finally began streaming through the glass doors, Haley stopped pacing and stood still, her eyes moving hastily through the crowds. She knew she wouldn't recognize the girl, but she hoped she'd have some kind of sixth sense that allowed her to find her camper.

She heard a few muted _Is that Haley James Scott?_ conversations, so she slipped back on her sunglasses and subtly inched away from the groups of people discussing her appearance in depth. She was determined to fully dedicate herself to CMC and her student. At least, once she found out the poor kid's name.

"Haley James Scott?" a tentative voice asked quietly. Haley groaned internally. She wasn't in the mood for autographs. She turned toward the fan, plastering her prettiest smile on.

"Hi there," she greeted.

"Hi," the girl in front of her said back. She had long, wavy blonde hair that would've made the rest of the world jealous and soft blue eyes. Haley approved of her wardrobe, noting the pale pink Ramones t-shirt the teenager sported over a pair of destroyed jeans and Chucks. There was a guitar at her feet and a suitcase to her side. Haley's smile automatically grew more genuine at the sight of the instrument. The girl cleared her throat a little nervously. "You're my mentor," she reported.

Haley gasped and grinned, whipping off her sunglasses. "Hi, oh my God, I'm so sorry. It's so great to meet you," she said. Her excitement combined with her maternal instincts caused her to reach forward for an impulsive hug. She was met with the girl's shy smile. "Chris was being a total moron and refused to tell me your name," she told the young girl, who could've only been fourteen, apologetically. "So I'm going to have to ask you to introduce yourself."

She didn't seem fazed as she shrugged and replied, "Jenny Jagielski."

All of the activity in the airport seemed to fade away as Haley stared at her. The last time she'd seen Jenny Jagielski, she'd been a baby. She was now fourteen years old, and beautiful, with soulful eyes like her dad's and that hair of hers. And musically talented, apparently, which really shouldn't have surprised Haley considering Jake's own musical abilities. She shook her head slightly. Brooke had reported to them all, those years ago, that when Peyton abruptly left town she must have gone to Savannah to be with Jake. Apparently, unbeknownst to the rest of them, she'd taken off for a couple days to visit him right before Haley and Nathan's second wedding. Nearly five years later, Peyton started a record label in L.A. Jenny Jagielski had just gotten off a plane from L.A. Had Jake and Peyton stayed together, and had he and Jenny moved there for her? Did this adolescent, completely clueless when it came to the past, have any idea how Haley could contact her long-lost friend? Haley's head was spinning. She tried to think of something to say, but there were too many things that she could have said. "Jake's baby girl," she finally breathed, more to herself than to Jenny.

Jenny pulled back a little, shocked. She studied Haley's face. "You know my dad?" she asked quietly.

Haley felt tears building behind her eyes. "Yeah, honey," she said faintly, feeling a rush of love toward this girl, a connection to her past and the girl she hadn't seen in years. "We went to high school together. I knew you, too, when you were a baby."

Jenny blinked. "My dad went to high school here?"

Haley was taken aback. Whatever game Jake, or Peyton, or whoever the hell it was giving Jenny her background info was playing, she wasn't going to be a part of it. "Yeah, your dad grew up here."

"Wha…he…" She looked so confused that Haley's heart broke for her. "So if you knew me when I was a baby…" she said slowly, "…you know my mom, too."

Haley grimaced at the thought of Nicki. Maybe Jake had reconciled with her sometime in the past years, though it seemed kind of impossible considering their tumultuous history. "Um, kind of. Well, yeah, I guess I did." _She was a total bitch when you were little and threatened my friend, who really was a mother to you, constantly. She kidnapped you a couple times, screwed Jake over many more, and caused Jake to leave, totally breaking Peyton's heart. She also came a party I threw for my husband and ended up trashing the place and getting my guy arrested...yeah, you could say that I knew her.  
_

Jenny's jaw dropped and her eyes filled with so many emotions that Haley couldn't fully recognize any of them. "Oh my God," she practically growled. She whirled around, and then whirled back just as quickly. "Oh. Um…I brought my mom. Well, I didn't really bring her, she insisted on coming, and I didn't want to lose this opportunity, so…" she let the sentence trail off. "She's here. I would've said that she doesn't need to stay with you and that I made her promise that she won't bother you - not that she's annoying or anything - but if she _knows_ you..."

"Oh, well…" Haley wracked her brains for something to say other than _we pretty much hate each other_. "Jenny, I…"

But Jenny had turned back around and was now yelling at someone. She was blocking Haley's view of her, but that was alright. Haley could use a moment to collect herself before she encountered Crazy-Bitch Nicki again.

"Mom!" Jenny cried indignantly. "How could you not tell me that you _know_ Haley James Scott! You and Dad went to high school with her! This is your _hometown_? Hell, yeah, you've kept a lot from me!"

Haley winced before she looked up, preparing her best welcoming smile for when she finally met Nicki's eyes. She steeled herself and looked up, but she was far from prepared for what she saw.

She found herself looking into the world-weary green eyes of the girl she'd thought was lost to her for good. "Peyton," she said in a strangled voice, one of her tears fighting its way out of her eye and sliding down her cheek. She'd honestly thought she'd never see her again.

Peyton shrugged helplessly, apologetically, wearing a wry smile. "Hey, Haley."

**A/N:** I love reviews, and they make me want to update so much faster...


	3. Obbligato

**A/N:** As always, thank you for the reviews. Less than a month until the season premiere. You know you're as pumped as I am.

Obbligato: a term used to indicate an additional instrumental part added out of necessity; it becomes an essential part of the melody and cannot be removed, even if the composer originally did not intend for it to ever be involved in the piece

"Peyton," Haley spluttered once again, staring disbelievingly at her long-lost friend. "You…" She was at a complete loss for words. Haley knew she was a nerd, and her vocabulary was extensive, but she really had no words for this moment. Part of her wanted to smack Peyton, part of her wanted to hug her, and an even bigger part of her just wanted a damn good explanation as to why she'd avoided them all for all those years.

"I'm back," Peyton said. An obvious statement, but one that helped shock Haley back to reality a little bit.

"Mom, when you said you'd been keeping stuff from me…" Jenny shook her head. "I didn't think it was anything this big. Why did you never tell me anything?"

Haley gasped softly at the sheer amount of sadness in Peyton's eyes as she gazed at Jake Jagielski's daughter. "Lots of reasons," she said softly. The sadness was deeply buried in her friend's green orbs, but on the surface, Haley saw an emotion she knew well: maternal love. Fiercely independent Peyton Sawyer had turned into a total mom for this girl.

Haley knew it shouldn't have stunned her. Peyton had been acting as a mom to Jenny from the moment Jake revealed to them that he had a daughter. Not from obligation or necessity, but because she loved her. But why had she insisted on accompanying Jenny to Tree Hill? Was she still with Jake? Where was Jake? She sneaked a peek at Peyton's left hand; it was void of rings. That didn't help her at all. Just because Peyton wasn't married, it didn't mean...anything, really.

"Sweetie," Peyton said slowly, choosing her words carefully. She kept a steady eye on Haley as she spoke. "We'll talk about everything later, I promise. And I'm sorry. Okay?"

Jenny shrugged. "Do I have any other option besides 'okay'?" she asked sarcastically in a quiet voice full of hurt.

Peyton's gaze left Haley as she pulled her daughter to her into a bone-crushing hug and kissed her temple. "I love you, babe. Hales'll take good care of you."

"Um…" Haley said. _Brilliant start_, she told herself irritably. "Peyton, where are you staying? Because Nathan and I, we could –"

"No, no," Peyton cut her off. "My dad sold the house, but he bought the office space above Tric and turned it into an apartment, so…that's where I'll be staying. It'll be good, to be back there," she shrugged.

"Back where? What's Tric?" Jenny inquired, the intense fire of curiosity bright in her somewhat injured eyes.

Both women ignored her. "Peyton, can we…can we talk?" Haley asked hesitantly.

Peyton's eyes were cloudy with tears. "Later, okay?" she asked softly. "I know you and Jen have stuff to get to. So later. We'll talk."

Haley wasn't taking vagueness, not at all. "Later as in tonight. Dinner," she insisted, despite the fact that she and Jenny were supposed to dine with the rest of CMC's participants. Peyton could come over for a late, lighter supper.

"Hales," Peyton breathed, looking down. "Not yet. I just can't."

Haley's heart broke for her. She didn't know what was going on with her, not at all. Peyton looked as slim and beautiful as ever, her eyes just as bright, but there was that sadness there. As long as she had known Peyton, behind the blinding green light of her orbs, there was an acute sadness. It was still there, dimmed and yet somehow, more powerful.

"Peyt…" she said in the quiet voice she normally reserved for her children when they were so upset about something that she herself was worked up about it. "I miss you, girlie." She shook her head. "Like hell, Peyton…you have no idea."

Her friend blinked rapidly. "I think I do," she said painfully, so tragically that Haley stopped fighting the instinct she'd had since she'd spotted Peyton, the one that told her to throw her arms around her and never let go.

Peyton hugged her back with just as much force, and Haley sighed. She had so many questions, but she knew Peyton. She needed time and space, and lots of it. "Dinner _tomorrow_ night, okay, honey?" she asked, a few strands of Peyton's hair getting caught in her mouth as she spoke. When they pulled apart, she looked into Peyton's eyes seriously, and was beyond relieved when her friend voiced her agreement.

"Okay. Tomorrow night."

"Is someone going to tell me _what the hell_ is going on?" Jenny finally demanded, gaping at them.

Peyton bit down on her lower lip. "Wait to let me tell you, okay, baby? It'll be soon, I promise you that." She leaned in to kiss Jenny's cheek before grabbing the handle of her bag. "I'll see you both tomorrow." She threw Jenny a pointed look. "You call me if you need me."

"Yeah."

Peyton shot Haley a quick smile, and then she took off. Haley stared after her, watching her disappear into the crowds.

She and Jenny stood there awkwardly for a moment. "So…" Jenny said quietly, "to think that I was nervous to meet you because you were a big musician."

Haley chuckled. "I babysat you before, kiddo. There's nothing to be nervous about here."

Jenny scuffed the toe of her sneaker. "Are you going to tell me everything? Or…anything?"

Haley looked at her sympathetically. "I should leave that to Peyton. You know that."

"Yeah, but I just…I can't believe how much she's kept from me," Jenny shrugged, looking at Haley with innocent eyes.

"I'm sorry," Haley said earnestly. "Especially because you're going to have to come home with me now, and meet my husband, who totally dated Peyton in high school, and my four boys, who are just tough to handle. Tonight, we're going to the camp's meet-and-greet…" A thought occurred to her and she grinned at the teenager who stood before her. "Hey, what would you say if I told you that Chris Keller held you when you were a baby?"

"Shut up!" Jenny cried delightedly, all the weight of the world fading for a moment.

"He did," Haley said truthfully with a smile. "C'mon, let's get you and your stuff home." She grabbed the handle of Jenny's bag so that she could roll it along behind them.

"Thanks, Mrs. Scott."

Haley laughed. "I know this has got to be weird for you, Jenny, but considering our history…I'd really prefer it if you called me Aunt Haley."

* * *

"Okay," Nathan said as calmly as he could, regarding the two sniffling boys who sat before him. His two-year-old was balanced on his hip, whimpering as he sought his dad's attention. Jamie was off pouting in his room; he'd wanted to get burgers for supper and his father had said no. Nathan's patience was wearing thin. He wanted Haley to get home. He knew she'd be busy with her camper, but her presence alone would calm the kids. "Okay," he repeated. "Nicholas, Noah…which one of you hit the other first?"

"He did!" both boys shouted insistently, pointing accusing fingers at each other.

Nathan groaned as Sebastian started to cry in earnest. "Shh," he cooed at his baby boy. "Okay, guys, how about this? No dessert for either of you, and _do not_ hit each other again, do you understand me?"

"But Daddy!" they both cried in protest, speaking in unison, as they often did.

"We're ba-ack!" called Haley's melodic voice from the entryway.

"Thank God!" Nathan returned, fighting to keep his voice light.

He heard Haley laugh, but something about it was off, almost nervous. She came into the room a minute later, pulling a shy-looking blonde after her. "Hey, my boys," she cooed fondly as the twins ran to her.

"Mommy!" they both whined, launching themselves into her arms, snotty noses and all.

"Aw, Noah, Nick, what happened?"

They talked over each other, tattling and whining pitifully. Haley listened with raised eyebrows, waiting patiently for them to finish.

"No more fighting," she said firmly, "do you understand me? Now go get cleaned up and let's have some food, okay?"

"You have to help us clean up," Noah pouted. He was the most sensitive of their children and very attached to Haley.

It was at that moment, of course, that Sebastian started to wail in earnest, reaching for his mom. Nathan exchanged a resigned look with his wife as she took their youngest from him. "Okay, my honey, shhh," she soothed him. "Okay, boys, let's all go get cleaned up," she told the twins. "Come on." She met Nathan's eyes. "Where's Jamie?"

"You mean _J. Luke_?" Nathan asked with a small smile. "Sulking in his room because I wouldn't let him have a burger."

Haley sighed. "Well, at least he's being quiet." As she walked out of the room, she called over her shoulder, "I'm so sorry, hon, I'll be _right_ back."

It was only then that Nathan remembered the teenage girl standing awkwardly in the room. "Hey," he greeted her kindly. "Sorry about all the chaos, but I guess you'll have to get used to it, huh? I'm Nathan Scott. It's really great to meet you."

The blonde arched her eyebrows and said, "Apparently, we've already met."

Nathan's eyebrows shot up as well. There was something about this girl, her Ramones tee and the slight bite in her voice that struck him as very…Peyton Sawyer. He felt a rush of emotions flood back as he realized that this kid looked almost exactly like Peyton had when they'd first gotten together. "I don't understand how that could be," he replied evenly.

The fourteen-year-old smirked. "Oh, well, then…nice to meet you, too, Nathan Scott. I'm Jenny Jagielski."

He could feel his jaw drop. Jenny Jagielski? On the list of people Nathan thought he'd never encounter again, she was pretty high up there. Jake's adored little girl had grown into quite the cutie; he didn't see any of Jake in her, not until he looked deep into her pretty blue orbs. "O-oh," Nathan stuttered. "Wow."

She nodded, hiding a smile, and crossed her arms. "I hear you dated my mom."

Nathan grimaced automatically. He'd never dated Nicki. No way. Never. _Ew_, was the only real thought that he could form at the simple idea of it.

Jenny actually laughed at his expression. "Peyton Sawyer?" she prodded.

His head was beginning to spin. Peyton was pretty damn high up on that list of people he thought he'd never encounter again, too, but not because he didn't want to. He missed her, but she'd seemed incredibly determined to cut every single one of them out of her life.

"Your…_mom_ is Peyton?" he asked, entering the realm of complete confusion.

"Yeah. Haley said you knew my parents in high school. Peyton being one of my parents."

Haley re-entered the room with Sebastian snuggled into her embrace. "She's here, Nathan," she said softly.

His brain was not equipped for the information overload. "Peyton's _here_?"

"She said she _had_ to come with me," Jenny inputted with a slight roll of her eyes. "Sorry," she added with a shrug.

"No," Nathan said instantly, forcefully. "Don't be sorry. It's good."

Jenny looked baffled. "Okay then," she said slowly.

Haley reached out to her, gently draping her arm around the younger girl's shoulders. "So listen, you and I need to head out to the camp's headquarters pretty soon. We'll have dinner there, but everyone else needs to eat. There'll be leftovers, though, so what kind of pizza do you like?"

"Anything's fine."

"Okay. Well. Nathan, why don't you order pizza?" She asked sweetly. It was such a wifely thing to do, to frame an order as a question, that he couldn't help but grin. "Let's get you settled, Jenny."

Nathan stared after his wife as she left the room, _Jake Jagielski's daughter _in tow. It appeared that there was a new broody blonde in Tree Hill, one that hadn't graced the town with her presence in nearly thirteen years. There was also an old broody blonde lurking around. If he hadn't had four kids, a wife, and a confused fourteen-year-old to worry about, Nathan would've bolted out the door and found Peyton Sawyer. He wanted an explanation for her disappearance, her reappearance, and absolutely everything in between. Especially everything in between.

* * *

Peyton flopped onto the bed in the middle of the master bedroom of the airy apartment. It was empty and bare, but it didn't seem lonely. It was more like a minimalist had last resided there. She knew that her father hadn't bought it for himself; it was for her, in case she ever decided to return. For that reason, he'd left the decorating up to her. At least she'd have something to do to occupy her time.

She missed Jenny already. They didn't spend an absurd amount of time together. Jenny had been to countless sleepovers and a couple week-long summer camps before, but Peyton had still never felt so disconnected from her adopted daughter. She loved Haley, always would, but she made her nervous. Haley and Nathan had Jenny in their care all summer long. They could tell her anything. They could tell her everything.

When Peyton had made the decision to lie to her daughter, it had taken a lot of consideration. She wasn't comfortable with it, but she'd honestly thought it was the right thing to do. Everything she'd told Jenny – or rather, everything she hadn't told Jenny – she had done with her kid's best interests at heart. And she had done so on the assumption that no one who knew any different would ever enter their lives.

She was a big believer in chasing dreams. That had always been the corny-but-true sentiment among her friends. Go out there and get what you long for. Get out there and do it all to the best of your ability. She couldn't deny Jenny the opportunity of a lifetime just because she'd made some risky decisions in the past. Like any mother, she thought that her child deserved it all. CMC was it for Jenny.

Unable to sit still, she got up and wandered into the downstairs club. Her high school haunt. Her pride and joy. Tric was filled with a lot of painful memories, but also some that she wouldn't give up for the world. It was a trade-off; conflicting memories brought her both happiness and grief. Haley stealing the show…it lead to Haley going on tour with Chris and leaving Nathan devastated. Her friends banding together to support her…only after she struggled with a drug addiction due to a dealer who'd controlled her business. Meeting her mother for the first time…and losing her for what felt like the second time. Her love of Lucas and the heartache it caused for them all. The call he had made for her, after her breakdown, the one that led her back to Jake.

Peyton had put a lot of love into the establishment she stood in, and it had given her just as much back. The thing about putting love into a project, a place, an inanimate object, was that it turned out pretty and perfect, absorbing the benefits. Getting it back was a different matter. Humans didn't have that same luxury. The perfection of love came with deep-digging, heart-wrenching flaws that didn't always appear until you were in too deep. Peyton felt an actual connection to the building because it housed a great deal of her past, but her past wasn't always pretty.

"Well, well," a slow, melodic voice drawled teasingly, making her jump. A shadowy form emerged about five feet away. It moved toward her with a confident swagger that could belong to only one person. Peyton shook her head. The smallest part of her wanted to smile.

He emerged from the shadows and leaned casually onto the bar, directly across from her. "Chris Keller was wondering when you'd show that pretty face of yours again."

"Peyton Sawyer was wondering when she'd have the chance to make Chris Keller's face not-so-pretty," she shot back with a fake, open-mouthed smile.

He pretended to contemplate her words, a slight smirk on his lips. "Does that mean you want to slap me again?"

"Yeah, genius, it does."

He shrugged, leering. "Whatever turns you on; Chris Keller is up for it."

Peyton shook her head disbelievingly. She wasn't in the mood for what he considered witty banter. "What were you thinking, Chris?" she demanded, lowering her voice to a near-whisper. "Bringing her here?"

"Hey," he said, raising his hands. "Jenny deserves it. She's got an amazing voice and she can play that guitar almost as well as I can. This can be great for her, Peyton. It really can." He shrugged. "Besides, you didn't have to follow her here."

She shot him a serious glare. "Yeah, right. Like I'm just going to watch my baby walk into this town, naïve and alone. You'd give her all this information about my past. I know it'll happen anyway. I hate it, but I can't avoid it. I need to be here when she finds everything out."

He just stared at her, smirking self-satisfactorily.

"_What_?" she growled.

"_Your_ baby, huh?" she asked, leaning across and bar, his face close to hers. "Tell me, Peyton…how was I supposed to know that you'd adopted Jenny Jagielski? You haven't been in contact with anyone in years. It wasn't until I got the forms back…imagine my surprise when, in the parental permission section, I saw the name of the girl who broke Tree Hill's hearts."

"Don't be so dramatic," she hissed, growing increasingly impatient with him. "Okay, so then you knew. Why'd you have to accept her?"

Chris laughed lightly, looking straight into her eyes. "Let me level with you, 'kay, Peyt?" he asked in a sing-song, slightly condescending tone, using an abbreviation of her name that she only granted to certain people at certain times.

"Peyton," she bit out. He was without a doubt the most infuriating person she knew. She almost wanted to strange him.

"Jenny Jagielski is the most promising kid here. Jake's daughter…your daughter, now…is _amazing_. She can do great things. I thought, you know, I don't know Peyton very well. But she's Haley's friend…or at least she was. So I do have a good idea of what she believes. She'd want this for her kid. For her husband's kid. Whatever."

"I'm not _married_," Peyton informed him angrily. She wanted to contradict him so badly, but for once, he was being a (kind of) good guy, and he was making sense. "I guess…you're right, but I am _not_ happy about this. Any of it. Why did you have to give her to Haley? Why not someone else?"

Chris leaned back, chuckling. "You know, Sawyer, you're hot when you're all flustered. I bet you find me annoying, but in a sexy way, right?" He dropped an eyelid in a casual wink.

"Chris –" she began, but stopped herself. She was tired from the flight and from the thought of all the emotionally exhausting moments she had yet to endure in this town. "Do not hit on me. Do not be an ass to my kid," she finally ordered. "That is what I need from you. Can you do those two things this summer?"

He took a couple steps backward without breaking eye contact. "Jenny's good at what she does. I'm going to make her a star, Peyton…that's a good thing, right? That wouldn't qualify as being an ass, right?" he added mockingly.

She ground her teeth together. "I guess not."

"But hitting on you, P. Sawyer?" he asked with a laugh and a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We'll just see how long until you want me."

Her jaw dropped as she watched him retreat into the darkness. "Don't call me that!" she shouted after him.

"Okay, hot stuff!"

"Chris!" she yelled, but he was gone. Thankfully, there was a chair behind her that she could collapse in to. Days ago, Jenny had worried about the summer, thinking that she might get scared and back out. Now, Peyton knew that if anyone was going to be running from the town, it would definitely be her.

It had taken her a long time, but she'd managed to forget. It hadn't been easy, but with persistence and the passage of time, she'd managed it. She'd forgotten about Brooke until Chris pulled out that old nickname.

She'd forgotten about the man Brooke was married to.

* * *

Haley showed Jenny to her room and left her to unpack her belongings. Noah and Nick had quieted down and were calmly settled in the living room with books. She decided to leave Jamie to his brooding for a while. She expected Nathan to be in their room, so she carried their two-year-old in with her and carefully sat him on the bed with a toy elephant.

Her husband was pacing. "I can't believe Chris didn't tell you who she was," he fumed, rambling. "I can't believe Peyton's back. What's been going on with her? What's the deal with Jake? Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah. She looked good but…sad. Then again, it is Peyton…sad is kind of average for her. I don't know any more than you do, Nathan. I got her to agree to come over for dinner tomorrow night. I guess we'll find out more then. God, I cannot believe that Jenny Jagielski is in our guest room right now. I held her when she was only a few months old, but I know absolutely nothing about her life since Jake left Tree Hill the second time…and now just _look_ at her, she's so…"

Nathan filled in the blank: "Peyton. That is…Peyton, all over again," Nathan said softly, pointing toward Jenny's room. "There's not much of Jake in her, and there's sure as hell not any Nicki. The attitude, the clothes, the music…she even _looks_ like her. It's impossible, but it's true."

"I know," Haley breathed. "It scares me, Nate, how little I know about Peyton's life now. It hurt when she left, and it still hurts that she left, but I can't hate her for it. She's still…Peyton. She's still me friend…" she trailed off, shaking her head. None of them had given up on her. When she appeared in L.A., they all tried to contact her. Brooke's visit was what it took to fully prove to them that Peyton no longer wanted anything to do with those she'd left behind.

Haley hadn't, in all honestly, been ready to stop chasing after her. She would've fought forever – Peyton deserved it, and part of her worried that Peyton needed it.

It was Lucas that convinced her otherwise. Brooke took off for L.A. almost three months after he proposed, insisting that she needed her best friend to be part of her wedding. It didn't feel right without Peyton. Lucas' own drive to find their friend had inexplicably faded away in recent months, but he didn't try to stop his fiancée. However, when she returned home nine days later a heartbreaking mess, despite all his love and support, it was easy to tell that he wasn't surprised.

Out of all of them, her closest friends, Brooke knew Peyton best emotionally. She'd been there when Anna Sawyer died and for every one of the following tragedies in Peyton's life. She was her best friend. Haley loved Peyton just as much, but on a more soulful level; their connection was formed through their passions for their art. Though it pained Haley to admit it: physically, Nathan knew Peyton best. But none of them had ever managed to forge a connection with her like the one that Lucas had. Lucas Scott's connection with Peyton Sawyer was deeper than any of that. A powerful combination of all three and then some.

It was for that reason and that reason that Haley backed off. If Luke thought it was for the best, then it had to be. She trusted that decision because she trusted him, but there were occasional moments when she admittedly regretted it.

But never before had she regretted it quite as much as she had when she laid eyes on the woman Jenny Jagielski called 'mom'.

**A/N: **Reviews equal happiness which equals a combination of inspiration and motivation, which when added, equal a new chapter.


	4. L'istesso Tempo

**A/N:** As always, thanks to those of you who've reviewed. It's always awesome to see reviews in myi inbox. Keep 'em coming!

To those of you who've inquired about Jenny's physical appearance, I'm really working from the last time we saw Jenny, in season three, when she was blonde-haired and blue-eyed. I know that most toddlers have those physical characteristic and eventually outgrow them, but I'm sticking with them. It's possible that Jenny looks like one of her grandparents or even _great-_grandparents – it's possible. In the end, it's fiction: I get to do what I want.

And to those of you who asked: yes, I do have musical background. I've played a myriad of instruments, but the only one I've stuck with since childhood is the piano. Music is important to me, but it is also important to One Tree Hill and to this story, so I thought I'd use my knowledge to title the chapters with musical terms that relate to their content.

Sorry about the lengthy babbling, but I just have to tell you this – there is a new character in this chapter of my own creation named Jordan Lynd. I wrote this, and then went shopping the next day. I was standing in line waiting to pay at LuLuLemon, so I read the names on a sign-up sheet for an all-male yoga class. The third name on the list was Jordan Lynd. Strange, huh? Anyway. Now that I've told you my boring musical history and about my weird shopping experiences…get reading! (And don't forget about those reviews…)

L'istesso Tempo: a musical term used to signal that the instrumentalist should return to playing at the same speed as they did in the previous movement of the piece; put most simply, a reintroduction of a familiar tempo

"_This_…" Haley said, pausing for dramatic effect as she held the door open for Jenny, "is Tric. Peyton put a lot of work into this place. It's good that she's staying up there," she added, her eyes flicking upward as she referred to the office-turned-apartment. "Tric is CMC's base, so we'll see lots of her."

Jenny grimaced. "I love my mom, but I don't want to see her every single day this summer. I didn't exactly plan on bringing my mommy with me to music camp."

Haley smiled sympathetically, but Jenny could tell that her mentor – who was also apparently her aunt – was glad that her mother had tagged along. "There's a lot that I don't know, isn't there?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, honey, I'm sorry. But there's a lot that I don't know, either. We'll figure it out together, okay?"

She smiled. This famous musician really did care about her. She appreciated Haley's maternal behaviour, especially since she was so unsure about her relationship with her mom now. Jenny had been taught the value of honesty. She'd always believed it was a two-way thing. She, like her mother, had trouble letting others in. When they were together, she'd always thought they'd had a sort of sacred agreement. Other people were kept out, but with each other it was full disclosure. Now she knew how wrong she'd been.

"Chris!" Haley's disgruntled voice jarred Jenny back to reality. "Get over here. _Now_!"

"Hey, Hales," Chris Keller greeted as he strode over.

Jenny wanted to squeal. She was standing, like, a foot away from _Chris Keller_.

"How could you not tell me her name?" Haley demanded, nodding toward Jenny.

"Relax, Haley," Chris laughed. "There was no way for me to know she'd bring Peyton Sawyer with her." He smirked. "I saw her earlier; she's still a babe."

Jenny frowned in disbelief. Had Chris Keller just called her mother a babe? Was she being _Punk'd_?

"And Chris Keller can tell that she raised you right, Jenny Jagielski" he continued, smirk still in place. "You're going to be the next big thing."

Jenny allowed herself a quick scan of the room. There were about two dozen people milling around, half of them successful and famous, half talented teenagers. None of them were Ashton Kutcher. It was all real. "The next big thing?" she repeated faintly.

"Don't scare her, Chris," Haley reprimanded, and Jenny was struck by the protectiveness in her mentor's – aunt's – voice.

Chris suddenly looked serious. "She should be scare. It is scary. You know that, Hales." He cracked a small smile. "Can you handle it, Jenny?"

She lifted her chin and spoke with more confidence than she actually possessed. "Of course I can," she said defiantly, quirking her eyebrows as she looked at him with a challenge in her eyes.

On her right, Haley exhaled, but Jenny didn't look at her. She kept her gaze fixed on Chris Keller, almost unable to believe that she'd actually just spoken to him with such assuredness.

He grinned his trademark cocky grin. "_Damn_," he said appreciatively. "It's sure as hell clear who raised you." He winked at her before turning to the crowd as a whole and yelling, "Let's do this!"

* * *

"It's. Not. _Fair_!" a high-pitched voice wailed.

Lucas' train of thought, the first semi-good idea he'd had in a while, was long gone. He'd excused himself from the dinner table with the possibility of his muse returning as an excuse, much to his wife's annoyance. His mother, step-father Andy, and little sister Lily were not difficult to converse with, but it still bothered her that he'd left her alone to entertain them _and_ take care of their sometimes-difficult daughter.

It was actually hair for her to be angry with him; had he been at the table, he would've managed to keep the conversation away from the subject of eleven-year-old Lily's recently commenced riding lessons, knowing the reaction it would spark in Mira. While Lucas hastily typed, Brooke was left to deal with the five-year-old's tantrum.

With a heavy sigh, he abandoned his writing and headed back into the dining room. "Brooke, quiet your daughter," he said with a groan.

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you," she snapped. "This is your fault for spoiling her so badly."

"Daddy," Miranda whimpered. "I want a pony!"

"No, honey," Lucas replied patiently. Her big, sad brown eyes never failed to make his heart ache, but he was not going to buy her a horse.

His little girl stared at him incredulously through tear-filled eyes. He rarely refused her anything. Okay, so he _never_ refused her anything – Brooke took care of the word 'no' in their household.

"I _hate_ you!" Miranda screamed as loudly as her small lungs would allow, and took off for the stairs, running to her room.

"Mira!" he called after her. With another troubled sigh, he slumped into his chair. She'd never said those words to him before.

Brooke rested a hand on his shoulder. "You know she didn't mean it."

"Lucas," his mother inputted kindly, unable to resist. "You _have_ been too indulgent with her."

"Yeah, I know…both of those things, I know." He felt inexplicably restless and sad that evening, and confronting the fact that he'd spoiled his kid into bratty-ness was no exactly what he would have chosen for the night's activity. More than anything, he wanted to go for a run, most likely to the river court.

"It's not too late to change him," Andy told him comfortingly, in his laidback, calming manner. "She'll have forgotten about the pony by tomorrow."

"I know, I know, I just…"

"What, babe?" Brooke asked sympathetically, running her fingers through his hair and gently massaging his scalp. He loved how easily she could go from being angry with him to being so supportive. It was a surprising trait, but one he appreciated nonetheless.

"I just love her so much," he shrugged. "I don't have it in me to break her heart."

Brooke exchanged a knowing smile with his mom and winked at Lily, both gestures basically saying, _Aw, look at what a sweetheart our guy is. _"You're so sensitive. She'll forgive you in an hour."

"I know. I just…I worry," he confessed, "about the day when she won't be able to forgive me."

Brooke laughed. "Lighten up, Broody. That little girl adores the hell out of you. She'll always forgive you. I know it."

He had to remind himself of who they were talking about – he'd forgotten for a moment. "Yeah," he agreed, shooting his wife a smile. "Of course she will."

* * *

Peyton sat in the stairwell, sneaking a peek at CMC's meet-and-greet dinner. Five of the seven female campers had gravitated toward Chris and were hanging off his every egotistical word. Jenny sat at a small, round table with Haley and a brilliant keyboard player and singer whose music Peyton collected religiously, Lucia Marttin.

Peyton pressed her lips together as she watched Haley stroke Jenny's hair. Of course Haley would mother Jenny. It was how she was. Peyton knew she could trust Haley and Nathan to take great care of her daughter, but she didn't know if she could trust them to keep her secrets safe.

Haley and Lucia were distracted by another mentoring musician, and a boy, a cute kid around seventeen with a killer smile, sidled up to Jenny. Peyton sat upright, every instinct she had on alert. Jenny clearly had her walls up, so Peyton told herself that she didn't have anything to worry about. But then the boy said something, accompanied by that smile, that made Jenny's cheeks turn a pale pink. Peyton frowned. Of course, a boy. A charming wannabe musician. It wasn't as though the summer wasn't already complicated enough. Jenny had enough tears ahead of her. She didn't need her heart broken, too.

Her eyes filled with tears and she swallowed thickly. She'd promised herself that she would be strong throughout the summer, for Jenny. It was just so _hard_ to be a pillar for someone else when you yourself had no one to lean on. It was in moments like those that she longed, physically ached, for Jake. She just wanted him to hold her in that reassuring way of his. Even when his own life was coming apart at the seams, Jake had always been so stable in her eyes. He always seemed to know what to do. Peyton rested her head wearingly against the wall and watched Jenny smile. They didn't talk about Jake, but she knew that Jenny thought of him, too.

Senior year of high school had started off lonely and sad. She'd lost Jake – again – and a mysterious woman had appeared on her doorstep claiming to be her mother. Lucas was madly in love with Brooke and had his usual share of familial problems. They had banded together, acknowledging their history (_It's always going to be there, isn't it? You and me._), and had put it aside for the sake of their friendship. It was a move made out of love and necessity.

She helped him win Brooke over again, and he was there for her as she hesitantly let Ellie into her life. Then they both had others – Lucas and Brooke grew cute and couple-y again, while Peyton forged a relationship with her birth mother. When Ellie died, she broke a little. Lucas was busy strengthening his relationship with her best friend – she couldn't get in the way of that. Brooke was there for her in the same way she had been when Anna had died, protective but willing to give space. Peyton appreciated her friendship more than she could ever express, but Brooke had Lucas and Lucas had Brooke. Her loneliness returned.

And then Jimmy Edwards shot her in the leg, and Lucas ran into the school, knowing that she was there, coming to her rescue. He'd taken such good care of her, and looked at her with such concern in his eyes. As she sat on that floor, bleeding – possibly to death – she realized that she'd never truly stopped loving him. It was, perhaps, the scariest realization that she'd come to in her life, but she knew that that only made sense…when was it time for a scary realization if not before death? So she told him, and pressed her lips to his, and when he kissed her back, lightly but genuinely, everything seemed like it was going to be okay.

She should have known better. Of course Lucas Scott, her constant saviour, wasn't going to let her die. He scooped her up and carried her out of the building; he saved her life. She returned the favour as best as she could, making sure to offer her support when it turned out that his uncle was gone. They managed to joke about the kiss, and she played it cool around him. But she ran like hell to escape what she was truly feeling. She threw herself into a brief fling with Pete Wentz, but then her father sat her down and told her to follow her heart. He mentioned his relationship with her mother in the process, and the mention of her mom, as always, made her both sad and reinforced any sense of realism she had. It reminded her of the whole life's-too-short thing. She couldn't lie to herself anymore, not after that rare piece of meaningful parental advice.

She had wanted to follow her heart, but she couldn't. She'd given up rights to what following her heart meant. So she ran to the only other boy she'd ever loved. Jake was as perfect and as in love with her as he'd ever been, and Jenny remembered her, called her mom. She felt secure, and as though she belonged, like she'd found her family. She never wanted to go back to the quiet and the fear she'd been living in, she never wanted to leave; she proposed. For short hours of her life, everything had seemed, once again, like it was really going to be okay.

But she betrayed herself in her sleep, mumbling about Lucas. Jake sent her back reluctantly, his reasons both selfish and selfless. She loved him for it but hated him, too. They could have gotten married then and saved her that last painful trip back to Tree Hill.

Stupidly, like a lovesick idiot, she told Brooke how she felt, and suddenly she was more alone than she'd ever been. Brooke wouldn't forgive her, called her a selfish bitch and whirled out of Peyton's life so fast that her best friend couldn't even try and catch her. Peyton was devastated. She'd lost her mom again. Her dad was always away. Her best friend hated her. The boy she loved was more off-limits than he'd ever been; even if she needed a friend, he couldn't be the one she went to. Nathan and Haley were understandably wrapped up in each other. She had nothing and no one left.

Peyton fled back to Savannah and gave her heart to Jake. She got her GED, started working in Savannah, became acquainted with Jake's friends, and loved her small family with everything in her. There had been weeks and months and years of a pure sense of…okay. Of everything in its right place. Contentment. Perfection.

But as always, in their relationship, no matter how reluctant his departure was, Jake left her. That last time, he left her with Jenny, her saving grace and reason to move forward. She built a new life for the two of them, one she was proud of and happy with, as long as she had her daughter. She'd never even dreamed that she'd end up lonely in Tree Hill again, but that was exactly where she was.

* * *

"So, what do you play, Jenny?"

She eyed him as subtly as she could. Jordan Lynd had introduced himself to her minutes ago, and she didn't yet know if he was worthy of her trust. He was, however, pretty hot. "Guitar," she replied coolly. "You?"

"Mostly guitar, but I play around with a lot of other stuff."

"Jordy's _super_ talented," a raven-haired beauty gushed, draping herself over the boy.

He gently extracted himself from her grip, shooting Jenny an apologetic look. "Thanks, Ry. Um, Ry, this is Jenny; Jenny, meet Ryanna Parker. We study at the same conservatory in Washington."

"We've known each other practically forever," Ryanna contributed. "It's nice to meet you, Jenny. How old are you, twelve?" she asked, fully aware that one had to be at least fourteen to attend the camp.

_Jealous bitch_, Jenny fumed. "Fourteen," she answered evenly.

"How cute," Ryanna commented icily.

Haley and Lucia turned back to them. "Hey, look, it's my student!" Lucia said happily. "Haley, Jenny, this is Ryanna, the best unknown pianist in the country."

Ryanna put on her modest face and Jordan rolled his eyes. Jenny smiled at him.

"And you're Jordan Lynd," Haley said, easily remembering his name from the introductions. "Nice to meet you, I'm Haley James Scott."

"I'm a fan," he admitted, a bit shyly, "so it's _really_ nice to meet you, too."

"You looking forward to his summer?" Lucia asked.

Jordan shot Jenny a quick grin. "Yeah. I can't wait."

* * *

Lucas upped the speed on his treadmill as Run DMC pounded through the speakers of his at-home gym. He had never thought that he'd live such a decadent life, but he couldn't really complain. Everything was just so…easy. It definitely wasn't difficult to get used to.

"Lucas Scott!" the door slammed open as she spoke.

"Brooke Davis-Scott," he returned weakly.

She looked positively murderous. She was supposed to be at work and was still dressed in a work outfit. Whatever he'd done was clearly bad enough to prompt her early departure from the job she so adored.

"Get off that treadmill _right now_," she bit out.

He slowed down gradually before stepping off the treadmill and taking a long drink of water as he awaited her wrath.

"Are you _trying_ to _kill_ yourself?" she screamed over the music.

"E-excuse me?" he spluttered.

"The pharmacy called to ask why I'm still paying for medication you're _no longer taking_. For prescriptions that you _don't pick up_. What the _fuck_, Lucas?!" she shrieked.

"Listen, Brooke, I don't really need –"

"I couldn't care _less_ what you need, I _really_ couldn't! I care about what _I_ need, and what your _daughter_ needs, and what your _mother_ needs, and Haley and Nathan and their kids and your sister and Andy and the entire team you coach and your editor and the readers of your stupid books! Do you _know_ what we all need?" she asked him fiercely, her eyes glistening with tears. "_You!_ Alive!" She took three bottles of pills out of her purse and flung them at him. "Start taking those again! Today!" She turned to march off, and then whirled around, an elegant clip flying out of her hair, causing it to fall in soft waves onto her shoulders. "I love you, Luke. So much. But I have never been able to understand you," she whispered.

"Brooke," he began, but he didn't have the words to explain. He certainly wasn't trying to kill himself. He had a lot of live for, as she'd just pointed out. It was just the reckless sense of restlessness that he was feeling lately, like the onset of a midlife crisis a good decade and a half early. His current inability to write was agonizingly frustrating, and he'd through that if he took a risk, let go of a little safety, he might find whatever he was searching for.

She was looking at him expectantly through misty brown orbs. His choice hadn't been fair to her. "I'm sorry," he finally said. It was weak, but it was genuine, and it was all he had. "I love you, too."

* * *

Haley was getting increasingly annoyed as the evening went on. In spite of the fact that she was in close quarters with Chris Keller, he was not the one annoying her. She was annoying herself, and she couldn't stop.

She was dying to pull Jenny aside and launch a full-on, hardcore inquiry. Jenny couldn't answer all of her questions, but to Haley, she was an incomparably precious piece of Peyton, and Haley was reluctant to let her out of her sight for fear that she'd slip away.

Jenny's musical preferences and her basic attitude both screamed of Peyton. But while Peyton was definitely appreciative of good music, she'd never actually displayed any talent – Haley never knew whether it was because she didn't want to, or because she didn't have any. Either way, Jenny's musical gift had clearly been inherited, and from her father. Her father was a constant in Haley's train of thought. Jake Jagielski. The sweetest – not to mention most attractive – single dad around. A great musician and pretty strong basketball player, he'd been nice to Lucas when he'd first joined the team. He fell head-over-heels in love with Peyton, even when she was still brooding over Lucas, and Haley had sensed that his heart would always belong to her. Without even realizing it, Peyton had won him over with some kind words and a pretty smile hidden behind the curtain of her curls.

It was a relationship that Haley had always encouraged and secretly cheered for. Jake was so good for Peyton. He pulled her out of depressive moods, loved her deeply, and took all-around good care of her. He made her happy. Haley approved of his musical tastes and his priorities. Jake and Jenny gave Peyton what she had been missing for years: a family. Her immediate maternal instincts toward the adorable little girl surprised them all, but it was such a positive change that Haley wished the three of them could get lost in that world together forever. Peyton with Jake, as an added bonus, left Lucas for Brooke, which made everything seem even and perfect.

And now, Haley was left to wonder: what the hell had become of Jake? When Peyton took off, basically minutes after her wedding, Haley had been bewildered and hurt, but things had become much clearer when Brooke theorized that Peyton had left to be with Jake. All year, what with Ellie's death and the school shooting, Peyton had been struggling. The year before, it had been Jake that saved her. It made sense that she would need him again, and Haley was happy for her. Brooke was with Lucas, Haley was married (twice over) to Nathan, and Peyton now had Jake. She missed them both, but she was happy. She sent Peyton a couple e-mails, letting her know about the accident and assuring her that all was well and updating her on daily life in Tree Hill. She'd fully, perhaps naively, expected a reply. She thought the e-mail would be full of happiness and good news, with a bit of concern over the accident thrown in. She thought maybe she and Nathan could take a road trip to visit the two of them, since they didn't make their honeymoon. She dreamed it all up in her head, looking forward to seeing Jake and Jenny, and most of all, Peyton with a smile on her face.

But she never got a reply. She waited about a week, figuring that Peyton must be busy figuring out the new life she was living, but she got nothing. So she sent more e-mails. And a couple more. Eventually, she'd had to come to terms with the fact that Peyton wasn't going to write her back.

She didn't understand. This was one of her closest friends. Why would she break contact so abruptly, without explanation? She quizzed Nathan, who knew less than she did, and then moved on to Lucas and Brooke, who she'd expected to have answers. Luke was hesitant and casually unconcerned in his replies: Peyton tended to be a sore subject around Brooke. Brooke seemed just as unconcerned, insisting Peyton was fine with a frown on her face. Clearly, Haley had missed a Peyton-related fight between the two of them.

Now, twelve years later, she could only look at Jenny Jagielski with an infinite number of questions running through her mind. What had gone wrong, when and why? Haley longed for her friendship with Peyton back, and she was determined to get it. She'd missed something before, whatever Peyton's reasons for fleeing Tree Hill had been, and her lack of information had caused the loss of a friend.

This time, neither of the Sawyer/Jagielski girls would be escaping Tree Hill until Haley knew everything. Absolutely _everything_.

It never occurred to her that she may not have wanted to know it all.

**A/N:** Did I mention that I used to be a cheerleader, also? Give me an R-E-V-I-E-W!


	5. Sostenuto

**A/N: **I spoil you, I really do, but I am such a review whore. Reviews are awesome. Thank you all – keep doing what you're doing, they make my day.

In answer to those of you who asked: Lucas proposed when they were twenty-two, but he and Brooke did not get married until they were twenty-three. Miranda was born the next year, when they were twenty-four, so she's five. All that info will be important later on, so it's good for you to know.

Also, sorry to those of you who were confused when Lucas told Brooke to quiet "her" daughter last chapter. Miranda is biologically Lucas and Brooke's child, it's just one of those figure-of-speech things, a way of pawning off responsibility or blame – ie. when my sister does something annoying/irresponsible/generally silly, my mother will tell me to talk to "my sister" about it and I tell her to talk to "her daughter"…either way, we're making the other one responsible for my sister's actions. Does that make sense? I hope so; it's a joke thing. _Anyway_. I'm so sorry about these lengthy A/Ns. Read on, and please do review.

Sostenuto: an Italian term, a direction to performers to play smoothly without any abrupt changes in key or tempo

The morning after Jenny and Peyton's arrival back in Tree Hill, Nathan woke up and checked on his slumbering two-year-old before he meandered downstairs. Haley and Jenny were sitting on the stools at the island in their kitchen, blankets draped over their shoulders, giggling about horrible wannabe musicians and eating cold leftover pizza. He couldn't help but smile as he witnessed the easy conversation between the two of them. If Jenny was anything like Peyton – and she clearly was – then she wouldn't be the easiest person to connect with. Leave it to Haley to tear down her walls with a few well-placed jokes and her inherent kindness and motherly attitude.

"Morning, baby," Haley greeted him when she spotted him standing there, watching them. "Leftover pineapple-and-mushroom?" she offered, pushing the box toward him.

He resisted gagging. "As, um…_appetizing_ as that sounds…I think I'll go with something a little more traditional, like, say…cereal."

"Playing it safe, I see," Haley said teasingly.

Nathan smiled back. "Good morning, Jenny," he said to the fourteen-year-old, who'd been quiet since he'd entered the little bubble she and Haley had created around them.

"Good morning," she replied, her tone friendly but guarded.

Yeah, Peyton through and through. Nathan shook some cereal into a bowl and reached into the fridge for the milk. "What do you crazy musicians have planned for today?"

"Studio time," Haley said excitedly. "It's like a test run…kind of like sight-reading. Shows me what I've got to work with," she added, quirking her eyebrows at Jenny. "It'll give you a taste of the biz."

Nathan chuckled. "My wife, the rock star."

"Realistically…is this going to be really hard?" Jenny asked.

"I expect you to work, Jenny, but none of it's meant to be torture. You love music, right?"

"Of course."

"So it's not going to be hard. I mean, I had Chris Keller when I was starting out. You have me, and I'm so much better."

"I still can't believe that he convinced The Wreckers that you should go on tour with them!" Jenny cried, her eyes bright. In every one of her movements, Nathan found himself searching for Jake-like characteristics. He had yet to find anything.

He left the girls alone to continue their music talk, walking into the living room with his cereal. Noah and Nick were settled on the couch with unbreakable cups filled with orange juice, contentedly absorbed in their summer-morning cartoons. A baby monitor, which would alert them when Sebastian woke up, sat nearby. Jamie was sitting alone in a chair, looking at the TV but not really watching it.

Nathan took a seat next to the twins, tickling them carefully so as to avoid any orange juice spillage. He then turned to his eleven-year-old, whose eyes kept wandering to the kitchen. "Sup, J. Luke?" he asked curiously.

"Huh? Oh…nothing. Just…TV."

"Uh-huh," Nathan agreed sceptically. He, too, pretended to watch the television. When Jamie's gaze strayed again, he followed it with his own eyes.

Right to Jenny, sitting there on a stool and nibbling on a mushroom in her pink-and-white polka dot boxer shorts and a pink tee. Her long blonde curls cascaded down her back in a mess of tangles, and her cheeks were a happy pale pink. Ah. She was cute, that was for sure, and for Nathan's eleven-year-old son, she must have been a downright…fantasy, as disturbing as it was to put his kid and that word in the same sentence. Older. Beautiful. Spirited. He shook his head and held in a smirk. Like father, like son.

"What's so funny?" Noah asked, studying his father's face.

Nathan smiled at him indulgently and leaned down close to whisper his discovery to his son. "Jamie's got a crush."

* * *

Chris sat next to Haley behind the glass wall in the recording studio. She had reluctantly pulled his blazer on to ward off the chill of the air conditioning, and was currently steadily alternating between two facial expressions: encouraging and annoyed.

Over the years, he and Haley had reached a point in their relationship that the rest of the world would have labelled "friendship", though they never referred to each other as friends. He'd also made peace with Nathan, but there would always be the smallest bit of animosity left over from his little…whatever it was…with Haley.

"Whenever you're ready, honey," Haley told Jenny calmly, shooting her a bright smile.

The moment Jenny looked back down at the sheet music in front of her, Haley whacked his arm.

"Ow! God! What is it with you and Nathan and abusing the Keller? Is this some sort of ki-"

"I swear to god, Chris," Haley interrupted him, "if the next word out of your mouth is _kinky_, I may have to kill you."

He held us his hands in surrender.

"You're making her nervous," she told him, her annoyed frown in place. "The poor kid doesn't need Chris Keller staring her down the first time she's ever been in a studio."

He smiled calmly in return. "Haley, her mother has a successful label. Jenny has some studio experience, I'm sure of it. I just want to know what she's made of."

"You're still making her nervous," she shot back weakly, knowing that he was right.

He grinned. "Chris Keller, triumphant as always."

"Shut up," Haley said with an affectionate laugh that warmed his heart a little.

He shifted in his chair, watching as Jenny tuned her guitar, her expression serious and intent. Jake's daughter. "So…what's the deal with Peyton?"

Haley's eyebrows shot high up. "Excuse me?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "I mean, with Jake. Her name was the only one on Jenny's admission forms. She adopted her years ago."

She looked at him like he was the world's biggest idiot. "Chris, I know you're a little, shall we say…self-absorbed, and I know that your relationship with Peyton, if you can even call it that, consisted basically of you annoying her – which doesn't surprise me in the least, by the way. But even _you_ must know that Peyton Sawyer has about three hundred more walls put up around her than the average person. I can't just blurt out questions like, hey, dude, what's the deal with Jake? She'd bolt, and I am _not_ going to lose her again," Haley said with impeccable ferocity and love.

"Okay, okay…fair enough, Hales. I'm just saying…he can't be around anymore. It wouldn't make any sense."

"I don't know what happened, okay?" she shot back irritably.

"Haley…" he tried, confused by the sudden sadness in her demeanour.

"I'm scared, okay?" she said testily, tears clouding her eyes. She wiped them away hastily with the sleeve of his blazer, not wanting Jenny to catch her crying. "I'm so scared that Jake died because I know what it would do to Peyton, and to Jenny. And if not…I'm just scared of the explanation. So…I'm waiting. I'm giving it time…giving her time. Peyton will come around eventually." She sighed heavily and blinked a few times, smiling at Jenny through the glass when the fourteen-year-old caught her eye. "Why do you even care anyway; you want to hook up with her or something?" she asked laughingly.

He stayed silent, wincing in preparation of what he knew was to come.

Haley spun in her chair to face him, mouth opening and closing as she searched for words. "Are you _serious_, you _absolute_ moron?" she demanded incredulously. "No! No, no, no!"

He frowned at the intensity of her discouragement. "What, you control her life now? Last I checked you hadn't heard from Peyton in twelve years, just like the rest of us."

"Don't _go_ there, Chris," she ordered him harshly.

"What?" he whined with a pout he knew was sure to annoy her. "She's hot."

"She's not yours for the taking," Haley all but growled. "You can't just pick her as your conquest, Chris – she can't deal with that."

"Again, I ask: how to you know? Twelve years, Haley James."

"God," she muttered and corrected, "Haley James _Scott_. Chris, please, I'm asking you this as…well, as me, whatever that means: do not do this to her."

He scowled. It was a little hurtful that she doubted him so much. "I'm not going to force her into anything, Hales. God, what do you think of me?" He reflected on his words momentarily. "Okay, so maybe I don't want to know."

"Chris…" she said softly. "Be serious with me – you _like_ her?"

He shrugged, self-conscious under Haley's seen-everything, gentle stare. "At this point, I don't know her any better than you do. She's beautiful, she likes music, and as far as I can tell, she's alone."

"But you…you can't be looking for a relationship. That's not the Chris Keller I know."

He didn't say anything. He could change, but he knew that that wasn't the most convincing argument, and that Haley probably wouldn't believe him. He just looked at her, his gaze steady.

"Look, Chris, Peyton's romantic life is kind of…"

"Epic? Tragic?" he supplied.

"I don't want her to get hurt again," Haley said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm ready!" Jenny called, her voice shaking the slightest bit.

Haley beamed at her and pressed down on the button that allowed Jenny to hear her speak. "Great, sweetie – just do your best. Go to it."

Jenny strummed a single chord on her guitar, her gaze intent on the music in front of her, and then began to sing.

Something rare happened: Chris Keller got goose bumps. She had an incredible voice, and clear talent, he could see it in the assuredness of her fingers pressing lightly on the guitar strings. Next to him, Haley shivered and whispered, "That's beautiful. God…that's Jake's kid, for sure. Just listen to her," she said, looking at him with her eyes wide in amazement.

"Yeah," he muttered in agreement, struck speechless for once in his life by the soft, melodious sound of Jenny's voice. It was in ways like Haley's, but he could hear the undertones of Jake Jagielski's voice loud and clear.

"Listen, Chris," Haley murmured softly, still absorbed in Jenny's singing. "I want to protect Peyton's heart. I've always worried about her. But…" she sighed again. "I don't want you to get hurt, either."

* * *

"Can you believe that? What a bitch," Brooke fumed.

"Yes, total bitch," Lucas agreed calmly as she ranted about a snobby woman she'd met that day.

Brooke pouted at him, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "You're humouring me."

He could tell that she wasn't really angry. "Maybe just a little," he confessed with an endearing grin.

She smiled back. "You're so lucky with your work, Luke. You sit in the quiet and comfort of your own home, and you never have to deal with evil skanks," she fumed. "I love my clothes, but I really hate the industry sometimes."

"I don't think that there's anyone out there who really _adores_ working in fashion," he soothed her. They were standing in the parking lot outside Tree Hill's most prestigious and expensive elementary school. Miranda went there during the school year, but they'd also signed her up for a summer dance class program that took place in the school's dance studio. Lucas, who had grown up with much less money than Brooke had, could still hardly believe that the school even had a dance studio.

"I guess not," Brooke sighed. She flipped her wrist up to consult the time on her diamond-encrusted watch. "They're late getting out. How are you feeling today, baby, tired?"

He gave her a look; she was acting strangely. "I'm fine." In truth, he'd done nothing but stare at the TV all day. It was sad but true – he just couldn't seem to write, and staring at his stupid computer did nothing but frustrate him. He didn't mind cooking for his girls; at that point, he felt it was the least he could do, considering his complete lack of writing progress meant a complete lack of money.

Brooke leaned into him with a secretive smile. "How about we drop Mira off with Haley and you take your wife out to dinner?" She quirked her eyebrows, awaiting his agreement.

He smiled. "Or you could just let me cook for you, Pretty Girl. I really don't mind."

She frowned. "Are you going to make me help? Because I'm spent."

Lucas chuckled, aware that she was working her ass off. "No, you and Mira can play dress-up or something, and we'll open a bottle of wine with dinner. It'll be relaxing, I promise you."

She pretended to consider. "That _does_ sound pretty good…as long as we can have dessert."

"Of course. What're you thinking of having?"

She smirked, leaning up to whisper in his ear, "_You_."

Lucas smirked back at her. "I thought you were tired."

"Only for some things," she teased, smirk still in place. "So what do you think?"

"I think that can be arranged."

"Yeah?" she grinned.

"Yeah."

"Mommy! Daddy!" Their little girl's voice interrupted them as she came barrelling toward them in her black leotard and white tutu, her feet jammed into bright orange flip-flops that caused her to trip a little as she ran to them. Her ballet shoes dangling from her little fingers.

Brooke winced at her daughter's choice of footwear. "I guess she picked up your fashion sense," she grouched playfully.

Lucas shot her a playfully insulted look right back before bending to easily scoop his daughter up. "Hey, princess. How was your class?"

"Really good, Daddy!" she exclaimed, and started babbling enthusiastically about pliés and tendus and pirouettes.

He met his wife's eyes over their daughter's head. Brooke stood next to them, her hand resting lightly on Miranda's back. Lucas could easily read her thoughts: they had it all. A power couple, successful and just a little bit famous – they both adored their work, though it aggravated them at times. They had a gorgeous, huge house, caring family, great friends, and a perfect five-year-old girl.

He couldn't help but agree. Even though he couldn't write at the moment, all in all he felt lucky and content. He nodded encouragingly and excitedly as Miranda giggled and rambled on, ending her lengthy speech with the declaration: "I'm _hungry_."

"Lucky for you, Daddy's gonna cook for us," Brooke told her, leaning in rub her nose lightly against her daughter's.

When they pulled apart, Lucas leaned in for an impulsive kiss, one that was passionate while still publicly acceptable. Brooke pulled away from him with an eager smile playing her glossy lips. "Let's go home," she said, her eyes glinting as she undressed him in her mind, and Lucas shook his head, scolding her, with a pointed look at their child. She laughed and hooked her arm through his, leaning her head happily against his shoulder as they made their way across the street to their car.

Lucas knew that Brooke's life had come together as perfectly as she could have ever wanted, and he loved being the one that had given her all she could dream of. Now he could only wonder about himself, and what was keeping him from moving on to his next success, his pursuit of his next happiness.

* * *

Haley ran a brush through her hair, which fell to her shoulders in soft waves. She didn't know who she was trying to impress. Peyton was not a judgemental guest – she wouldn't critique Haley's appearance and hostess skills like her in-laws would. Still, Haley felt like she needed to get dressed up, at least a little. She studied her reflection in the mirror critically. She looked good: pretty and sophisticated in a calm, understated way. She toyed with the necklace she wore nervously.

Chris' earlier confession of his interest in Peyton made her uneasy, and even more anxious to know more of all the information she'd been kept from in the last twelve years of Peyton's life. Their talk of Peyton's romantic history had brought Haley back to the only other boy, other than Jake, who'd been truly significant in Peyton's life: Lucas. She wondered whether she should have informed Lucas and Brooke – whom Nathan had long ago teasingly dubbed the 'Second Scotts' – about the arrival of Peyton in town. The thought alone made her nauseously nervous, the infamous old love triangle rearing its ugly head again. Haley had no desire to delve back into all that drama, not after so long. Jenny's singing earlier in the day had reinforced how easily Haley completely adored Jake's daughter, and how much she didn't want to lose either of the blondes that had just waltzed back into Tree Hill.

Four feet away, Nathan was engaged in battle with his tie. "Hales, remind me why I'm wearing this again?" He was acting nonchalantly, but he couldn't fool her. Nathan had been wearing ties often since he was a kid – the fact that he was struggling with the one currently around his neck gave away his own nervousness.

"So you look nice. You wear ties all the time, Nathan; what's the big deal?" She strode over to him and batted his hands away, expertly tying it for him.

"That's it: there is no big deal. It's just Peyton, Hales," he sighed.

"I know," she replied defensively. "It's just…we haven't seen her in so long."

Nathan sighed again, struggling to loosen his tie. "Haley, you look hot, you always do, but I don't think all this formality is going to make her especially comfortable."

Haley re-tightened his tie with more force than necessary, a bit aggressively, even. "So, what, you put on your old uniform and I'll dig out that stupid poncho and we'll hope that Peyton shows up in her cheerleading skirt?" she scoffed. "The last time we saw her we were _seventeen_. We don't know her anymore," she added in a quieter voice, quickly pressing a hand to her mouth to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. She didn't want to scare her kids, and she didn't want to mess up her mascara, either.

"I know a lot has changed. It's been a long time," her husband agreed kindly. "But, Haley…fundamentally, we're still the same people. And so is Peyton."

Haley took a deep breath, still trying hard not to cry. "I love your optimism, baby…" she told Nathan, tiredly but lovingly, "but I don't believe it."

* * *

Haley was obviously nervous. She'd given Jamie the usual before-guests-arrive lecture, dressed Nick and Noah in matching outfits, and even dressed the baby up.

Nathan loved his wife with all his heart, but there were moment when he really didn't understand her. Haley was trying to make a good impression on a girl they already knew; to Nathan it seemed ridiculous and unnecessary. It was Peyton, the girl he'd dated for two years and the girl who'd become one of his closest and most understanding friends.

People changed. He was well aware of that fact. He himself was living proof. And it had been so long, twelve years, that of course, Peyton had changed. But Nathan had so much history with her, in so many various forms, that he was convinced that, underneath the baggage she'd acquired over the last twelve years, she'd still be the same Peyton.

Haley dashed out of the room to check on dinner yet again. "Boys! Jenny! It's seven o'clock, get downstairs, please!"

"Hey, J. Luke," Nathan greeted his firstborn in the hall. Jamie shot him a grin in reply. "How're you doing, bud?"

"What's the deal with Mom?" he asked, glancing not-so-subtly in the direction of Jenny's room. Poor crushed-out, distracted kid. "Why's she so stressed?"

"Well…"

"Who's coming over, anyway?" Jamie asked, fully dedicating himself to their conversation when it became clear that Jenny was not about to walk out into the hall.

"An old friend of ours," Nathan told him.

"A _friend_? Then why is Mom acting like the president is coming over?"

Nathan messed his son's hair up and smiled wryly at him. "It's a long story, kiddo, one that even your mom and I don't know all of yet."

Haley was inspecting the twins' hands for dirt when Nathan and Jamie arrived downstairs. Nathan resisted rolling his eyes. "Hales, she's not going to judge us by our children's hands."

His wife shot him a glare, but Jenny entered the room at that moment, saving him from a snappish lecture.

"Wow," Jenny said uneasily. "You all look…fancy." She glanced down nervously at her own attire.

She was decked out in the same clothes she'd been wearing all day: a denim miniskirt and a pale blue t-shirt emblazoned with Peyton's label's logo over a black long-sleeved shirt. "You're fine," Nathan assured her, "it's just your mom." He realized in that to an outside, they must have looked like the stereotypical family, with Jenny playing the role of the rebellious teenage daughter who'd refused to dress up.

There was a soft, tentative knock at the door. Haley gasped. "She's here!" she cried in a near-horrified whisper.

Shaking his head, Nathan took it upon himself to answer the door. He swung it open and casually leaned against it, saying, "Hey, Sawyer."

She looked so familiar that he actually felt relieved. Yes, she looked tired and a little desolate, but not horribly so. Rather than looking bitter due to the hell life had decided to put her through, Peyton looked…softer, somhow, in brown knit pants and a thin, white long-sleeved tee. Her shirt had a scoop-neck that made the delicate bones at her neck look more pronounced. In the strangest way, she looked grief-stricken though she was nearly glowing, radiating a sense of happiness that could only come from finding one's place and purpose.

"Hey, Nate," she responded with a grateful smile. There was a beat, and then she flung her arms around him, holding him tightly.

Nathan returned the hug with just as much force and love. Her voice, sweet and muffled in his ear, said, "I missed you."

As he pulled away, he said, "Yeah, Peyton, I missed you, too. Don't disappear like that again, okay?"

The look she gave him was all nervousness and heartbreak. "I won't," she whispered in reply as Haley approached them. Automatically, Peyton reached out to wrap her arms around the shorter woman, but released her quickly. "Listen, guys," her soft voice said hastily. "I know that you don't know a lot, and I know that you want to. I'm sorry. I know I owe you, I do, but…no Jake talk, okay? Jenny can't handle it."

It was obvious that Peyton couldn't handle it, either, and the sadness in her intense gaze frightened Nathan. It was clear from his wife's following question that it scared her, too: "Peyton. Can you just…tell us what happened?" Haley's voice shook.

Oh, God. Jake died. What other explanation could there possibly be? Nathan could actually _feel_ the sympathy seeping into his facial expression.

"Jake is no longer involved in our lives, okay?" Peyton snapped.

Nathan frowned, even more confused about the whole situation. Jake loved Jenny and Peyton with all his heart, it'd been so obvious. He was Peyton's second saviour. What could possibly have motivated him to part with the most important girls in his life, particularly because everyone, most of all those who loved her, hated to prove Peyton's _people always leave_ theory right? Nathan couldn't even comprehend it.

"Okay…" Haley murmured, struggling not to ask more. "Well, um…"

Jenny saved her with, "Hi, Mom," and a slightly dejected but nonetheless loving hug.

Nathan watched their interaction with undisguised interest. Jenny was much more comfortable with Peyton than with the Scott clan, and understandably so, Peyton was her mom. As the two blondes embraced, Nathan could practically hear his wife's thoughts. Haley was thinking about all of Jenny's birthdays, her achievements, her friendships, her elementary-school graduation. She was thinking about all the important moments in Jenny's life that they'd missed…and all of the important moments in Peyton's life that they'd missed as well.

"So, Sawyer," he said as he cleared his throat. "Meet the fam," he said, gesturing to his kids, who stood patiently behind them, and instantly winced. _Meet the fam?_ Had he actually just said that?

Peyton's single arched eyebrow asked the same question, but she simply slung an arm around Jenny and waited to be introduced.

"This is Jamie, he's eleven," Nathan began, placing his hand on his son's shoulder.

"_Dad_," Jamie whined while trying to maintain his cool for Jenny's sake.

"Right, sorry, meet _J. Luke_," Nathan re-introduced his son with a parent-to-parent knowing glance. He was surprised to see that Peyton's eyes, instead of lighting up with amusement, seemed to grow sadder still. He cleared his throat again. "The twins are six…Nick, Noah, come over here and say hi to your Aunt Peyton."

She seemed happy that Nathan wanted his kids to call her 'aunt', and gave the twins a dazzling smile, releasing her daughter and resting her hands on her knees as she bent down to be eye level with the little boys. "Hey, guys," she said jovially.

"Hi," they murmured shyly in unison.

"You're so handsome," Peyton told them with the kind of grin meant to pull them out of their shells. Nathan, however, caught a catch in her voice, and a glance at Haley confirmed that she'd noticed it too. Tentatively, he reached out to touch her shoulder. She started, surprised at the physical contact, but just threw him a small smile as she straightened up.

"And this is our last one. My baby boy," Haley cooed to the toddler she now held in her arms. Sebastian peered curiously at Peyton.

Peyton looked at Sebastian like he was the most adorable thing she'd ever seen, breathing, "_Oh_." She didn't say another word, just asked Haley the question with her eyes as she reached out for him.

Haley nodded and held him out to her. Peyton cradled him in her arms, keeping him close as she looked at his little face in wonderment. That brought yet another question to Nathan's mind: Why had Peyton never had children of her own?

Haley didn't even bother trying to pry her two-year-old away; Peyton was more than obviously smitten with the little boy. She looked at Nathan, and they exchanged their third confused glance of the evening – it would surely not be their last. After a moment of awkward silence in which Peyton kept her attention on the youngest Scott child, Haley cleared her throat and spoke up. "C'mon, let's eat!" she said cheerfully, ushering them all toward the dining table.

**A/N: **Reviews make me :) … not to mention that they make me want to update much more quickly.


	6. Divertimento

**A/N:** As much as I adore C.M.M…boy refused to renew his contract and so ends _One Tree Hill_. That makes me so sad! I just started watching it this summer, so this will be the only season I get to watch episode by episode. That's so sad, so it's a good thing I had awesome reviews and freshly purchased Season Four on DVD to cheer me up. I always say this, but people, really: if you fave my story or put it on alert…review. Please? Thank you. Now feel free to ignore my babbling and read on.

Divertimento: a slow-paced, somewhat melancholy, solely instrumental composition intended for entertainment

Peyton felt bad for her old friends as they all ate supper. Nathan and Haley were tiptoeing around her, dying to ask questions but fearing the responses they'd receive. She didn't know how to help them out. It wasn't like she could just start rambling and give them a perfectly edited version of the last twelve years of her life.

Their kids were so beautiful. Jamie was so big, and her heart ached for all she'd missed. James Lucas Scott: named for Lucas, which contributed to her heartache. Despite his name, he seemed like Nathan all over again, only with his sweet side not quite as well hidden as his father's had once been. Just looking at him made her smile.

She saw a lot of Haley in their twin six-year-olds, particularly Noah. They were quiet but smart; their eyes, sparkling with childish fascination, took in every little detail.

And the baby, Sebastian, stole her heart right away. She'd never wanted to let him go.

The entire Scott family was just so picture-perfect and…comfortable. Peyton could not have wished for more for Nathan and Haley, two of the people she loved most in the world. They were such good people, such caring friends, that she felt so guilty for holding as much information as she was from them. It was just that Jenny knew so little – first and foremost, she felt that it was her responsibility to protect her daughter. And admittedly, she was a bit selfish: she wanted to protect herself from the drama and pain of confrontation and confession. Nathan and Haley loved her too much, even after all this time, and when it came down to it, that was truly the problem. They wouldn't be impartial, they'd be emotional and supportive, and Peyton had no desire to break down – especially not in front of Jenny.

"This is amazing, Haley," she said truthfully, commenting on the pasta dish they were all eating with the exception of the baby boy.

"Yeah, it really is great," Jenny chimed in politely, and Peyton shot her an approving smile of thanks.

Haley, just an invested in her social etiquette, said, "Thanks, both of you."

An awkward silence fell over the table. The quiet made the six-year-olds uneasy, and they exchanged a bewildered glance. Sebastian was, of course, oblivious to it all, while Jenny seemed to have reluctantly accepted the intensity of the history between her mother and the couple whose home she was residing in for the next eight weeks. Jamie didn't seem to care; he just kept stealing glances at Jenny, which Peyton thought was cute. Could it be their Naley's firstborn had a crush on her daughter? If anything was cute, that was it.

Nathan cleared his throat and folded his hands, looking very serious and fatherly in his place at the head of the table. "So, um, Peyton."

"Yes, um, Nathan?" she teased back, unable to resist. She felt more at ease with Nathan, not because of any romantic history they had, but because Haley looked at her with much more concern. She knew Nathan worried for her, but he was better at hiding it.

"Are you, uh…dating anyone?"

Haley made a strange face and hissed, appalled, "_Nathan!_"

Jenny giggled and Peyton gave her a quick smile. The boys all looked confused.

Peyton was determined to keep everything as light-hearted and easy as possible. Compared to some of the questions she knew Haley was dying to ask, this was an insanely easy one. She had a little fun, still teasing as she asked, with a quick lick of her lips, "Why, you interested?"

Haley's strange expression got even more intense, and she looked honestly upset.

"Hales…" Peyton rushed to assure her, feeling confused. Haley hadn't accused Nathan of having a thing for her since their junior year of high school. Her relationship with Nathan had been sex with the occasional sweet moment thrown in – Naley were a forever kind of deal that no ex-girlfriend could mess with. "I was just joking," she said calmly with apologetic eyes.

"Oh! God! I know, I just…yeah, I know, of course you were, that's not even what I was thinking, it was just that…" Peyton couldn't remember ever seeing Haley so flustered. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Mom," Jamie said bluntly, sounding tired. "Why're you acting so weird tonight?"

"Jamie," Nathan scolded him lightly.

"Well?" his son said pointedly.

Peyton broke through the tension quickly. "No, Nathan, I'm not."

He grinned at her. "Bad opening question, huh?"

She could only smile sympathetically. There was no such thing as a good opening question in this particular scenario. "As good as any," she said honestly.

Haley looked like she was struggling with something. Peyton wanted to call her on it, but on second thought realized that she probably didn't even want to deal with whatever it was. Haley relaxed a little, asking, "So, um…what're you doing lately?"

Peyton shrugged. "Well, my label, you know. Moody musicians and all of that. It keeps me pretty busy."

"No new hobbies or anything?" Haley asked, and her desperation to know a little more struck a chord with Peyton.

"I…I still draw a lot," she offered, "in my free time, and Jenny and I do some goofy stuff sometimes," she said, smiling at the fourteen-year-old. "Bowling and cooking and being really annoying at the movies. I'm sorry, Haley, that I can't tell you more, but…my life is mostly work and Jenny. That's all there is." She swallowed hard and twirled her fork idly in her pasta.

* * *

Haley gazed at Peyton sadly, wracking her brains for some sort of neutral conversation. Jake was the big question, and it had been the one thing Peyton had declared taboo. She gnawed on her lower lip with her front teeth before leaning over to Noah to remind him that he had to eat all of his carrots.

She just wanted to know. Haley craved knowledge, loved it, and used it as fuel for all her important decisions. She couldn't make choices without it. She met Peyton's eyes across the table and could see just from the emotion in the green eyes she faced that Peyton understood how she was feeling and felt sorry about it…but it was also clear that she wasn't going to relent or take back her decision. Whatever had gone down with Jake, she was keeping it private.

Another question pushed its way to the front of her mind. What about what had gone down with Brooke? Lucas? Even Mouth, for God's sake? Why had Peyton avoided contact with every single member of a once-strong group of friends? They'd spread out and made their own decisions, but no one, not even classic screw-up but overall good person Rachel Gattina or the infinitely annoying Chris Keller had completely cut off contact.

She just couldn't understand, and it made her sick with worry. Brooke was Peyton's _best friend_, and Lucas was her soulmate. Perhaps not in the romantic sense – their respective relationships with their significant others had proved that theory of Haley's wrong long ago – but in the purest sense of two complimentary people. Haley had found it in her husband, and she couldn't even imagine parting with him for as long as Peyton had broken contact with 'Brucas', as she affectionately called the pair occasionally, considering that Brooke had long ago dubbed her relationship 'Naley'.

The shrill ringing of their phone, which for some inexplicable reason played a jaunty Beethoven symphony, which, over the years had become a musical hatred for the entire Scott family, broke the bitter silence. The ringtone made Jenny smile, which warmed Haley's heart as she stood up and walked briskly over to the phone.

The number displayed by the caller ID made her hesitate. Briefly, she toyed with the idea of leaving it to ring, but having the voice of the caller fill the room as they left a message, blissfully unaware of Peyton's return, could only heighten the discomfort and unpleasantness in the air. She took a single deep breath to prepare herself, and answered the phone with a pathetic, "Hi," well-aware that every single person in the room – minus baby Sebastian – was straining to hear her conversation while pointedly pretending to be engrossed in their meal.

"Hey, tutor mom," Brooke Davis-Scott's raspy voice said perkily in her ear.

"Hey…you," Haley said, forcing an equally cheery tone.

"Something wrong, superstar mentor, or whatever the hell you are this summer?"

"Ha…um, no, of course not. What's up?"

"Oh…nothing. Lucas is just cooking for me like the big sweetheart he is. Mira's practicing ballet, it's the cutest thing; I'll get her to show you her moves next time we're over there."

Haley froze for a minute. She'd completely forgotten that Brooke and Lucas had the habit of stopping by unannounced, like, all the time. It was never something she'd complained about in the past, particularly because she and Nathan tended to do the same thing, dropping off kids to be babysat, just checking in, pleading for some coffee, volunteering to take all the children on an outing, or offering to cook dinner for them all. It was never a problem: they were family, after all. Haley didn't have any daughters, so she couldn't get enough of Brooke and Lucas' spoiled sweetie, and the 'Second Scotts' didn't have boys, so they were always eager to tease and play with Nathan and Haley's brood. Haley could only be thankful that Lucas or Brooke hadn't shown up on their doorstep over the next day.

"Seriously, girlie, what's your deal?" Brooke asked, taking on a more sombre tone. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine. Mira's dancing sounds really cute. I wish I could see her soon but I'm so busy with this whole…music camp thing." Haley grimaced when Nathan, Peyton, Jenny, and Jamie all gave her curious looks, wondering why she was lying to her caller.

"Yeah, that's why I was calling. I was wondering how the whole camper situation's been going, considering how mysterious Chris 'The Horny Idiot' Keller was being about it. Is the kid a total freak?"

"Brooke!" Haley cried out, aghast at her friend's blunt humour and appreciatively laughing at the fact that Brooke had remembered that she was mentoring that summer and had thought to call.

Then she realized her mistake. She pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut quickly, cursing herself, before she chanced a glance at the table. Nathan was wincing on her behalf, aware of how awkward the whole situation was. Jenny looked unconcerned, not even curious – which meant that she had no sweet clue who her mother's ex-best friend was. Jamie still looked intrigued, while the twins grinned and Nick cried, "Aunt Brooke!" making everything worse still. She looked at Peyton last. The blonde's face was ashen, and her lips had twisted into a sad frown. Had she even thought about the fact that Lucas and Brooke would be inevitably involved in Naley's life?

"Well!" Brooke cried in her defence, oblivious, of course, to all that was going on in the Scott household. "Who is it? Tell me, already, Haley!"

"I'm sorry, but I…can't talk right now. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I promise. I'll tell you everything."

"Fine," Brooke huffed. "Play hard to get, see if I care," she teased. "I'll talk to you tomorrow tutor girl! Kiss those beautiful boys for me. Luke says hi. Now go do your mysterious stuff…it better be dirty!" she added, and Haley could picture the quirk of her eyebrows and the glint in her warm brown orbs. Before she could reply, the dial tone resounded in her ear.

Haley slowly set the phone back down in its cradle to charge. With a weak smile, she turned back to the table. "That was Brooke," she blurted, even though it was the most obvious and unhelpful thing she could have possibly said.

"Yeah, we heard," Nathan replied, studying Peyton out of the corner of his eye.

"Auntie Brooke!" cheered Nick again. He absolutely adored Brooke and was always beyond happy to see her. "Is she coming over?"

Peyton gulped, her eyes searching Haley's face.

"No, honey, she's not," Haley told Nick firmly, but she was really speaking to Peyton, who visibly relaxed.

Jenny rested her chin in the palm of one hand, her elbow on the table, and drummed the fingers of her other hand against the hardwood. "So I'm gonna go right ahead and ask the really obvious question here: I guess I'm pretty out of the loop, here, but who's Brooke? Your sister?"

"Uh, no, Jenny, she's…a good friend."

"She's my favourite aunt," Nick told Jenny as if informing her of an important secret.

She smiled sweetly at him and said, "Yeah? Cool. I bet she's lots of fun."

Nathan chuckled. "_Fun_ is one word."

Haley shot him a glare. It was so not the time to be affectionately snippy about Brooke's character. "_So_ not helping, Nathan."

Peyton placed her fork down carefully, as though she was afraid that it would break. "So she and um…" she hesitated as if gathering the strength necessary to go on, "she and Luke are still living here?"

"Yeah," Haley replied softly, not sure why she felt quite as apologetic as she did. "Um…we're all still…really close."

"Of course you are," Peyton said graciously, but Haley could see how much it was all killing her.

Jenny arched her eyebrows. "What's your deal with Brooke?" she asked her mother.

"Jen…"

"What? I can't ask?"

Her mother sighed. "She was my best friend for a long time. We went through a lot together, but we lost touch," she said as matter-of-factly as she could.

"Bummer," Jenny muttered sarcastically. "I can't say it surprises me that I didn't know that. What about that Luke guy you mentioned? He an ex?"

All three adults just stared at her. Haley wondered how she could have possibly figured that out…did Jenny know more about Peyton's past than she ever would have credited her with? Or was she just so close to Peyton that she could decipher everything simply from the inflection in her mother's voice?

Jenny gave them all a look that told them that they'd underestimated her. "It was just the way you said his name."

Oh, not good, awkward, uncomfortable…Haley's head spun as she sensed everything rapidly spiralling out of control. "Pie!" she cried joyously, spontaneously. Once she'd gotten everyone's attention in the form of concerned stares, she continued, "Who wants pie? I think we all do. What'll it be, Jenny, lemon meringue or coconut cream?"

"Either…either's fine."

"Both it is. Peyton? Nathan?"

The two of them exchanged a worried look, which was an odd turn of events that made Haley smile.

"I'll have whatever Nate's having," Peyton answered her, smoothly forcing Nathan to make the choice.

"Uh…coconut cream, Hales, thanks."

"Great. Boys?"

She was bombarded by three requests for "Both, pretty please?" and she couldn't deny any of them considering she'd already made the offer to Jenny. She gave Jenny and Jamie chores to help her in the kitchen as she cut and served the two pies she'd bought at the bakery earlier in the day. She got Jamie to remove everyone's plates from the table even though no one had actually finished their main course, and got Jenny to distribute the pie. When they were all seated again with sugary pies sitting in front of them, Haley prayed for easier conversation.

Thankfully, she got an idea, and happily asked, "How's your dad doing, Peyton?"

Peyton's reply came accompanied by an easy, relaxed smile. "He's pretty good. He retired to Florida, actually, and he pretty much loves it. Jenny and I visit him, or he visits us…we make sure we see each other. Jenny loved going out there when we she was little…you remember, hon? Disneyworld was like heaven to you."

Jenny blushed and giggled. "Yeah, I remember."

"Imagine that," Nathan said teasingly, "Peyton Sawyer, nonconformist extraordinaire, taking her little girl to Disneyworld." He shook his head. "I can't even picture it."

"Shut up," she ordered him amicably.

Haley shot them both a big smile. "Are you close to Larry, Jenny?"

She nodded, her eyes bright. "Yeah, Grandpa's pretty great. I love visiting, I really miss him."

"Because he spoils you rotten," Peyton laughed.

"Not true!"

"Please. We promised you a car for your sixteenth birthday ages ago and he's actually going to stick to it. I was hoping you'd forget."

"Never," Jenny said devilishly.

"Well, I know that _now_. If only I had when you were seven."

"He bought you are a car for your sixteenth birthday. It's only fair that he buys _me_ one…especially because he loves me more."

"Ha ha," Peyton said dryly. "I just worry about you driving, you know that. I've seen you get road rage navigating a shopping cart through the supermarket."

Jenny's smile softened to one that possessed a better sense of understanding. "I'll be careful, Mom, you know that."

Something tangible passed between the two of them at that moment, as Haley looked back and forth between them.

"Yeah, kiddo, I know," Peyton assured her, effectively ending that portion of the conversation.

The others moved on, but Haley stayed lost in whatever silent agreement the two blondes at her dinner table had come to. There was clearly a sense of honest comprehension in Jenny's words, an understanding of why her mother would worry about her driving. Was it possible that she knew, at the very least, of Peyton's childhood, and of Anna's accident? It was obvious that she knew that Peyton had good reason to worry about her child and cars.

It almost made Haley sad to see that Jenny was close to Peyton's father. Larry Sawyer was a good guy who'd done his best for his daughter, and loved her to pieces, but most of the time doing his best meant that he was far away and that she was alone. He wasn't technically her biological father, but he'd raised her as though he was and Haley could give him nothing but credit for that, but the fact of the matter was that after Anna Sawyer's death, Peyton's family dynamic had shifted. Her father was there for her from a distance, and her immediate family turned into the unconventional pairing of two nine-year-old girls, and later grew to include Nathan, Lucas, Haley and the rest of their friends. In high school, when they'd married, Nathan said to her, _You're my family now_, and Haley had always felt that in her group of friends. They had relied on one another and did their best to provide unconditional love, though sometimes, just as in a nuclear family, they came up short. She regarded Peyton as her sister, and it made her sad to think that Peyton's daughter was close to Larry, who had been so absent in Peyton's life, while she, Haley, who had been there for her through thick and thin, Jenny knew only as a famous musician.

Jenny, across the table diagonally from her, dug into her coconut cream pie, and it smeared over her lips. She giggled as she lifted her napkin to wipe it away, shooting Noah, who was staring at her, a smile. She missed a bit of the smear, and Haley was amazed at how instinctive it was for her to reach across the table with her own napkin to clean her up. She didn't do it, but she felt the urge to without even thinking about it.

It made her wish so much that Jenny had always known her as an aunt.

* * *

Lucas rubbed Brooke's arm lightly. They were cuddled together on the couch with popcorn like a couple of teenagers as they watched _The Notebook_. Miranda had been tucked in about an hour, and Lucas had finished with kitchen clean up before joining his wife in their spacious-yet-comfy living room. "What's going on with you, Pretty Girl?" he asked her tenderly. "I'm pulling out all my best moves here, and you're ignoring me," he teased.

She looked up at him with a small smile on her lips. "Sorry, I guess I'm just not in the mood right now. I know I was horny before, but I'm thinking about Haley and it's kind of killing the mood."

"I figured," he agreed patiently. "Talk to me, Brooke. Did you two get in a fight or something?"

"No, nothing like that. She's just confusing me." She shifted her position, no longer leaning into him, but sitting up so that they could establish eye contact. "I called her earlier, just to say hi and ask her how it was going with that musician kid of hers, and she was acting really strangely."

"What do you mean?"

"She just seemed…jumpy, I guess. She didn't sound like herself; she sounded nervous, and I don't think she wants us to come over anytime soon…" She stood up abruptly, spilling some of the popcorn. "We should just go over there, right now, and figure out what's going on."

"Brooke…" He'd been looking forward to a relaxing evening, and quite frankly, sex. _He_ wasn't in the mood to get up and storm the other Scott household.

"C'mon! I want to know what's up. You know how much I hate secrets."

"Yeah, Brooke, but if she doesn't want us going over there, we shouldn't. Let's just relax. You and I both know that we can trust Haley. She'll explain at the right time."

Brooke's pretty pout was similar to that of her daughter. "No, Luke, come on. She'll probably be mad, but let's just find out what's up."

"And what do you suggest we do about our dead-to-the-world daughter upstairs? We don't have a sitter, and we're not going to wake her up just so we can ambush Nathan and Haley."

"But…but…" Still pouting, she flopped back down onto the couch. "Maybe if _you_ call her!" she suggested, brightening. "You're her very best friend; she might tell you what's happening!"

"_Or_," Lucas said pointedly, "we could be _patient_ and wait for her to tell us both when she's ready to."

Brooke shrugged her consent but continued to sulk as she watched Rachel McAdams on their television screen. Lucas sighed but inwardly, he smiled. There was only one way to make her stop fuming, and it wasn't exactly unpleasant. With the easy push of three buttons, he'd turned everything in the living room off. He held out both hands to her and gave her his slyest smile, "Come on, babe, let's go to bed."

She smiled at him, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely. With one last wistful look at the phone, she accepted his hands and stood to join him, leaning in for a teasing kiss. "Okay," she breathed when they both broke for oxygen. "You win…for now." And with that, she slipped out of his grasp and ran off down the hallway, her laughter bouncing off the walls and finding its way back to Lucas' ears. He smiled.

**A/N: **I waited for one hundred reviews to post this chapter, so I'm feeling pretty good right now. Send me a few more of those and you'll have more of this story coming your way.


	7. Berceuse

**A/N: **Thank you, as always, for the reviews, it really works as encouragement. I promise Lucas/Peyton interaction…_eventually._ Patience is key. To the reviewer who said I overuse the word "orbs", believe me: I know I do, but there are no other synonyms for the word "eyes". I only have two words to work with. Anyway, read on, everyone.

Berceuse: a cradle-song or lullaby in triple-time

"Thanks for dinner, you two. It was really amazing, Hales."

"Thanks, Peyton," she replied earnestly with that soul-searching gaze of hers.

Jenny liked Haley a lot, she really did. She was sweet and kind and infinitely caring, but it bothered her that Haley could take one look at you and see everything she needed to know. Jenny wasn't comfortable with being analyzed that easily.

She felt remarkably hormonal that night, the way you feel only when you're fourteen and confused and upset. She had felt tears building up behind her eyes at several points through their dinner, and each time had held them back as she tried to figure out _why_ she suddenly needed to cry so badly. The only clear thought in her mind was simple and pathetically childish: _I miss my bed._ She just wanted her home, with her favourite pillows and big pink-and-purple blanket, the softly-lit bedroom where she and her mother would settle to drink root beer floats and have quiet, calm talks before bed. Every single night for as long as she could remember, Peyton would come and curl up with her for a few minutes before she went to sleep. Sometimes they talked about serious things, sometimes they were silly, but mostly it was just easy, everyday conversation. Every single night, before she drifted off to sleep, Jenny felt the reassuring pressure of her mother's lips against her temple as a soft, "I love you" made its way to her ears.

As ridiculous as it may have been, she felt like she was losing her mom. Last night, she'd missed that kiss and those words more than she'd ever thought possible. She'd been away from Peyton before, but she felt very separate from her mother since their arrival in Tree Hill. Peyton had obviously kept a lot of heavy, emotional baggage hidden from her daughter, and Jenny felt like she was missing crucial parts of her mother that she'd never before known existed. She felt young and lost, and she just wanted to go home to her damn bed.

When Peyton rose to leave, out of habit, Jenny went to follow her. It was only then that she remembered that the Scott residence was supposed to be her home for the summer. A home a few blocks and a short walk away from the woman who'd raised her.

Leave it to Haley to not only notice how torn she was but to call her on it. "You can go home with your mom if you want, honey," she said softly. "There aren't any rules. You stay where you want."

"No, I…I'm supposed to stay here. It's fine. I'm all unpacked," she offered as a lame excuse.

"You're not supposed to do anything, Jen," Nathan told her gently, genuine concern in his eyes. "You don't have to follow Chris Keller's moronic rules."

Haley shot him a silencing glare that almost made Jenny smile. "I, um…it's okay, really. I'll stay here."

And then her mom's green eyes found Jenny's own orbs, and any of her remaining resolve cracked. "You can borrow my pyjamas, Jenny, babe, you know that. You're not going to die if you don't brush your teeth for one night."

Jenny caught Haley's wince at those words, and Peyton shot her old friend an apologetic look, clearly understanding that Haley was now going to have to argue that point out with her six-year-olds.

"C'mon, angel," Peyton said softly, speaking only to her and never breaking eye contact. "Come home with me and we'll talk."

Her heart leapt hopefully. "Yeah?"

Peyton's smile was sad, conveying how upset it made her that Jenny had doubted her. "Of course."

Jenny crossed the room in twelve quick steps to melt into her mother's hug, just as she had countless other times throughout her fourteen-year life.

"It'll be okay, Jen," Peyton murmured into her hair. "Everything's okay."

She didn't believe her. From what she'd seen that evening alone, Jenny knew that things were far from okay with her mother, and that there was certainly a reason Peyton had been avoiding the town for so many years. "I just want answers," she whispered back, waiting for the strength and assurance of her mother's reply.

It never came. Peyton held her more tightly, but she didn't say a word.

* * *

Peyton sighed as she quietly shut the door of the apartment closed behind her. "Jenny…honey…" she said to her daughter's retreating back. Jenny flopped down on the sofa in the living room, and Peyton joined her. "Talk to me? Please?"

Jenny pouted back. "All my life, I never could have even dreamed that you'd kept stuff from me. Stuff this serious and significant."

"Babe, I wasn't about to tell you about all my history when you were four. I somehow don't think you would have understood."

"Mom, be serious!"

"I _am_, kid," Peyton told her honestly, looking deep into Jenny's prettily innocent blue eyes. "It's hard stuff to venture in to. I was always scared."

Jenny looked at her sadly and Peyton felt almost guilty. She knew how her daughter was feeling. When you were someone's child, no matter your age, it was always heart-wrenching to realize that your parents were not perfect beings who never cried, feared nothing, and never made mistakes. Peyton remembered when her mother died and her father came undone. How helpless and powerless she'd felt, mourning her mother and losing her father. If she hadn't had Brooke, she would have lost even herself. She'd only been a little girl, but she'd always known that she never would have survived it all without her best friend.

Best friend. Not exactly a term that could be applied to someone she hadn't spoken to in years, to someone whose parting words had been accompanied by a bitch-slap and later rectified in a painfully emotional note, left lying on Peyton's desk for her to find.

When Haley said her name that evening, it'd come as a shock to her system. It'd taken so much effort and strength to forget Brooke and Lucas, to push them to the very back of her mind and into a locked area she could open up only when she chose to. Lucas and Brooke. Married, happy, and in love – they had everything Peyton had dreamed of, everything that she had lost. And more than any of that: they had each other, and she was without both of them.

"I think you're being selfish," Jenny announced. "You didn't want to deal with it, then _fine_. But why did you have to come with me? Why'd you have to make this summer even worse for me?"

"Jenny. You know that was never my intention."

"Then why are you _here_? Go home!"

Peyton gave her a warning look. "You and are are _staying_ here. All summer."

"So it doesn't matter about me then, does it? You just have something stupid to prove to yourself, Mom, admit it! If I don't want this music camp thing anymore, you'd just make me stay to prove that you're over whatever the hell happened the past with the Scotts and Chris Keller and…Brooke and that other guy."

"No, Jenny, that's not it at all! I won't let you give up on CMC because this is a big deal for you and it's helping you get to amazing places. I'd never submit you to something you absolutely hated or…anything. I'm not here for me, honey."

"But you _are_. How stupid do you think I am?" Jenny demanded.

"I don't think you're stupid at all," Peyton replied, struggling to maintain her calm.

"Damn it," Jenny muttered. "This would be so much easier if you'd just stayed in L.A. Or maybe if you weren't so pathetically caught up in what happened a million years ago."

Peyton's eyebrows shot up and she felt anger bubbling in her veins. "Jennifer Lynn, don't you dare."

Jenny planted her hands on her hips. "It's the truth, Mom."

She just shook her hand, afraid of how close she was to crying and yelling. "You have absolutely no clue what you're talking about."

Jenny threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "But who's fault _is _that, huh?"

"Jenny." _Stop, please_, she pleaded in her mind.

"When will you stop letting your melodramatic history interfere with my life?"

"Hey!" Peyton snapped fiercely. "Never have I let my life get in the way of yours. You're _not_ stupid, Jenny, just like I said, so you _really_ should be able to understand that – and you _know_ it is true, young lady." She took a deep breath. "Go raid my pyjama drawer and calm down a little, okay? Let's just talk about this."

Jenny's stiff posture deflated, and she suddenly looked younger. "Okay," she said softly.

Peyton reached out to run her fingers lovingly through her daughter's hair. "Off you go, babe."

When Jenny left to change and cool off, Peyton buried her face in her hands. This whole town held so much devastation for her, but maybe she was overreacting. Maybe she just needed to get over herself and move past her mothers' deaths and her absentee father, past the boy who'd broken her heart and the one who stepped with those eyes that were only for her and helped to fix it, past the brutal deterioration of a ten-year friendship, past all the pain she'd caused Nathan and Haley. Maybe she just needed to suck it up. The only problem was…she couldn't. That was her life, and as much as those memories hurt, she valued them, too; especially the good ones that found themselves lodged in between horror and heartache.

Jenny re-emerged from the bedroom in board-short length shorts and a tank top. "Hi," she whispered, tentatively sitting back down next to her mom.

"Hi, honey," Peyton replied with a sad smile. "Just hear me out, okay? I came here for you, not me. I know it may not seem like that, but whether I'd come or not…_you_ would've had to deal with my history. I just wanted to be here for you as you did."

"I could've dealt with it a long time ago, though. If only you'd told me, and then it could just be…_history_. We could let it all go."

"Kiddo…that's the thing. I can't let it go. I'm not hanging onto it for how I felt or what it was…it's just that it's always going to be there. It's my past; it's not exactly like there's a viable method for escaping from it. And yeah, it's confused and convoluted, and God, it sucks sometimes…but there are some parts that I would never give up for the world. I mean, Nathan and I, when we dated, we were a _mess_…but eventually we became friends, and I really value having him in my life."

"Which you've shown by not speaking to him for the past, what, decade?"

"Jen," Peyton sighed.

"You're just not making sense to me."

"I know I'm not, and I'm sorry, but that's where the whole convoluted part comes in. Without all my high school drama, I never would have had Haley, and without it, baby, I never would have had your dad," she pointed out, delicately speaking the single syllable in a vain attempt to avoid the pain it would inevitably cause them both. "And…Brooke. I mean, we've been engaged in a strange fight for years now, and we haven't talked in so long…but she was my very best friend. She got me through my darkest days, when I was just a little girl. Just because I'm mad at her now doesn't mean I'm going to let that go." She shrugged. "Yeah, maybe I have a lot of baggage…okay, not maybe; I _do _have a lot of baggage. Maybe it was stupid, Jen, but I just wanted to protect you."

Jenny stood and moved away from her. Peyton winced, immediately regretting her decision to mention Jake. "It doesn't _matter_ anymore, Mom. So what if you were friends with Brooke when you were five? You're clearly not now. Who the hell cares if you and Nathan ever dated, what _difference_ does it make? Did you have some kind of twisted plan to get him back?"

She resisted the temptation to laugh. "Um, no, honey…believe me, my romantic regrets in this town aren't exactly centered on Nathan Scott."

"Well, I don't care who they are centered on, Mom! Just let it _go_. Brooke and Haley and Nathan…and Dad." She shrugged, tears pooling in her eyes. "Just let it go."

"Sweetheart," Peyton began, also standing as she reached out for her daughter.

Jenny took a step back.

"It's not that simple. I wish it was."

"Stop _wishing_ and do something about it, then! Mom, please! For me, alright? Let it all go for me. You wanted to protect me, right?" She held her hands at her sides, palms open. "So do it. Protect me."

"Honey," Peyton tried again.

"If you really did come here for me, and not you, then let it go."

"Jenny, you don't understand what you're asking. I can't exactly erase my memory."

"That's not what I want you to do!" Jenny cried, frustrating. "I want you to _let it go_." She shook her head. "But…you can't, can you? You just can't."

Peyton just looked at her sadly, struggling to come up with something brilliant and parental to say, but she was at a complete loss.

"Right," Jenny said. "Great. You know what, Mom? You know what I think? I think this is all really pathetic. You've always seemed so strong and powerful to me, and I admired you so much, but you're only strong when you're far away from all your stupid demons. It's pathetic, it really is, that you have to lie to your kid to protect yourself from all this _drama_." She shook her head disbelievingly. "I'm leaving. Call me when you stop being a high school girl and you're ready to be my mom again." She grabbed her jean jacket and made a beeline for the door.

"Jenny Jagielski!" Peyton cried, but by the time the words left her lips the door had slammed shut behind her daughter.

* * *

"Hey, Millie," Lucas greeted his wife's second-in-command as he entered her ever-busy offices. Even past ten p.m., as it was when he walked through the intimidating glass doors, the Clothes over Bro's building was humming with activity.

"Hey there," she replied with a kind smile, not pausing in her hasty walk even for a moment.

Lucas had to jog a couple steps to catch up to her, and then they fell into step. Millicent had some sort of Bluetooth device attached to her ear, a huge purse slung over her shoulder, glasses hanging around her neck, and was carrying a small pile of fashion magazines. On top of the pile was a clipboard full of unintelligibly scribbled notes. He couldn't even begin to imagine doing all the work this woman did in a single hour, never mind years.

"What can I do for you, Luke? You looking for your girl?" she asked brightly in her soft voice, perching her glasses on the bridge of her nose and scratching something off one of the many lists on her clipboard. It still looked like she had about thirty tasks to accomplish.

Brooke emerged from an office at that exact moment, a folder open in her arms as she chatted quickly and seriously with John Anthony, one of the other important people in the company whose job Lucas never fully understood.

"Brooke, Paul and Yvette stopped by earlier, they were a little upset about the Chicago deal – call Paul, not Yvette, he has a crush on you so he's much more likely to cooperate. Innovative Metamorphosis called, they want to pick up the new line, I said I'd consult and get back to them; in my personal opinion, I'd say no. Their clothes are cute but they seem like a pain in the ass to deal with. And Luke's here," Millie said breezily without missing a beat as she walked right past her boss.

"Thanks, babe, you rock my world," Brooke replied just as calmly and unconcernedly. She muttered something to John Anthony, who chuckled, saluted her, and walked off the direction Lucas had come from. Then she closed her folder sharply and finally looked at him. "Hey, husband!" she chirped, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I know I said I'd be done by now…I'm sorry," she said with an apologetic wince.

"I should've called," he shrugged. They'd been in the middle of some intense foreplay when Brooke got an 'emergency' call from work and had reluctantly hurried off. He'd told her he'd pick her up in an hour so they could continue what they'd started.

"No, I should've been ready," she replied, tossing his words away with a regal flick of her wrist. "Now what's going on? You miss me too much?"

Lucas smiled. "That, yeah, and…so does Mira. I left her with Jaclyn and some colouring books out front. She woke up crying for you…so I brought her down here. I hoped you could come get some ice cream with us. She won't fall back asleep for a while."

She appeared to melt. "Aw, my little princess. Millie! We have ice cream, right?"

Millicent seemed to come out of nowhere. "We most certainly can," she said with an impish grin. "I'm on it. Chocolate sound good?"

"Perfect. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Lucas raised his eyebrows. "What's your master plan, Pretty Girl?"

"Mira can help me do layout while she eats her ice cream. If she hits the hay she can sleep on my couch, it's big enough. Just let me be with her?"

"Of course."

"Okay. Listen, _you_ should go home. Try to write."

He groaned. "Trying's not doing much for me these days."

"Aw, Lucas…I'm sorry you're struggling." She slipped an arm around his waist and leaned into him. "Go home and take a bath or something, okay?"

He gave her a skeptical look.

"Okay, so that's what I would do if I was stressed. You…go shoot some hoops. Just clear your mind. You'll have peace and quiet: Mira and I will be done soon and then I think we might…stop at Naley's…?"

"Brooke," he sighed. "Haley asked you for a little space."

"Oh, come on! Aren't you just a little curious as to what's going on?"

"Very curious. But I'm going to respect Haley's wishes, and you should too. We don't have secrets; she'll tell us soon enough."

She gave him a small smile. "I trust Haley. But whatever it is can't be that bad. I'm sorry, but I'm going. I hate secrets, even if they're only kept for a little while. I'll just stop by. You wanna come with?"

"It's nearly ten thirty."

"Short visit, Luke. Sebastian won't sleep until midnight, you know that. So…you coming?" she asked with a pretty pout.

He sighed but relented. "No, it's okay…you and Mira stop by. I'm respecting Haley's wishes and I'm going home to…take a bath, I guess. I'll see you and our girl when you get there."

"Okay." She leaned in for another kiss. "I love you. I'll fill you in on all the dirty details when I get home."

Lucas grinned back. "You better."

* * *

Nathan heard the front door slam and light footfalls as Jenny rushed to the guest room – her room, for the summer. He sighed. Some sort of damage control was probably in order. She seemed like a really great kid, and he felt bad for her. Not to mention that he felt like he knew her. Because she was an old buddy's daughter, and because she was Peyton's mini-me.

Haley hovered outside the door Jenny had slammed behind her, biting her lower lip. A relieved smile lit up her face when she spotted her husband. "I don't know what to do," she whispered, wringing her hands.

"Well, yeah…neither do I. Should you talk to her?"

"I don't know," Haley shrugged helplessly. "Maybe…you could?"

"Me?" he asked sceptically.

"Yeah," she said brightly, warming to the idea. "Sometimes I don't really know how to…connect with people like you and Jenny. It took me a while to find my way to your heart, and to get pack there the times I took wrong turns."

Nathan frowned. "What do you mean, people like me and Jenny?"

"People with walls. I'm so…open with everything I feel all the time that I don't always know how to break walls down." She sighed. "Can't you try, Nathan, please?"

He pulled her to him in a hug and sighed as well. "Anything for you. But…I can't promise anything."

"I know. Just try," she insisted calmly, gently pushing him toward the door.

Nathan didn't really have any idea to handle a teenage girl. He knocked hesitantly and opened the door a crack when he didn't receive a response. "Hey…Jenny?" He poked his head in. "Can we talk?"

She was sitting on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest as she curled into a tragic little ball. "I guess," she whispered, sounding as though she felt like she had to other choice.

Nathan left the door open the slightest amount so that she wouldn't feel trapped. He walked over to her slowly and took a seat at the foot of her bed. "Did something happen with Peyton?" he asked sympathetically.

"Mom and I fought," she replied in a choked-up voice. Nathan internally scolded himself. He had to remember to refer to Peyton as Jenny's mother.

"Yeah? About what?" he carefully prodded.

"It's just that…she doesn't tell me a lot. And all of that stuff that she kept from me, she…it just effects her _so much_ and that…it scares me."

"Why?" Nathan questioned quietly.

"Because…" Jenny looked up at him at last, as though imploring him to understand. "It's like her history means more to her than her present. Than me."

Poor kid. "Jenny…your mom would never think like that. I know her, I know that."

"Yeah, I guess you do know her," she muttered. She frowned deeply. "Do you think my mom still has a thing for you?"

Nathan laughed out loud and immediately tried to disguise it as a cough. "Ahem. No. Sorry, Jenny, but…God, no. Peyton and I, after we broke up…we've always joked about wanting each other, just stupid sexual innuendo, but it's _never_ meant anything. We had a relationship, and yeah, it was mostly physical, but it was there and it mattered and we never intended to ignore it. We just so much better as friends. I love Haley with all my heart, and Peyton fell in love too, she had…uh, well, she had your dad, didn't she? That's not something you need to worry about, I can promise you that."

Jenny gave him a small smile and sat up a bit, loosening her grip on the pillow. "You knew both my parents in high school. That's so weird."

He just shrugged.

"Do you remember when they fell in love?"

He grinned back at her. "Yeah, sure I do. You were pretty instrumental to that whole story."

She scowled, confused. "You think they fell in love because my mom got pregnant?"

Nathan frowned right back, just as confused. "No, no. Jake, your dad, he told everyone about you at a point when Peyton was…kind of torn up about someone else. They'd never even spoken before, but she fell in love with _you, _at the very least. I think she saw in you guys the family she'd always wanted. Nobody ever imagined Jake and Peyton would fall so in love, and that it would be so hard." He was proud of himself for the simple accuracy of his description of events. It seemed like a fairly comforting thing to say.

Jenny stared blankly at him, no longer grasping the pillow. Her eyes were filled with calculation and fear. They were wide as if terrified, the deep navy blue of sorrow and secrets.

"Jenny?" he asked cautiously.

"What are you saying?" she whispered in a panic.

"I…" His brow furrowed. "I…what…I just…"

Jenny's entire body appeared to be trembling. She swallowed hard. "Are you…are you telling me…" She gasped, a sound somewhat like a sob as she gaped at him. "_My mom…Peyton's not my mom?"_

Nathan's jaw dropped as well. Oh, God. Oh, no. Oh, _shit_. Peyton, he realized, had made the mistake of hiding something very long ago, and he had just made a mistake that made it a hell of a lot – possibly irrevocably – worse.

**A/N:** The more you review, the more I write.


	8. Chromatic

**A/N: **Hey, you guys, I'm a liar: _OTH _may or may not have a seventh season. Excuse me while I take my foot out of my mouth. In other news…I can't believe I'm posting two different fics in about a two-hour time frame, but I hate to just have chapters sitting around on my computer. Besides, you all set a new review record on the last chapter, for which I am, as always, thankful. I guess that's the power of a good cliffhanger. Reviews really do light up crummy days, though. Keep doing what you're doing. Here's your reward for the last ones.

Chromatic: a term applied to notes that do not belong to the diatonic scale, misfitting notes which can either destroy or elevate a piece of music. The chromatic scale is lengthy and includes all the misfitting notes, giving it a sour, bitter sound.

Peyton pulled on a pair of old comfy jeans and a favourite shirt of hers in place of the more formal outfit she'd worn to dinner and jogged downstairs, rushing out the door after her daughter. Tric was empty and quiet in the dark of night – it was clear that Jenny had already left the building.

"_Damn_," she muttered to herself. Maybe her daughter was right. Maybe she was just a self-absorbed bitch who couldn't deal with her own issues from over a decade ago.

Or maybe she was just human. She loved Jenny with all her heart; her daughter had made her whole again, but she would always be haunted by the emptiness left within her by past losses and what-could-have-beens. It was just who she was. Peyton didn't cope well with the regret or the incessant ache of loss. She didn't know how to handle something that hurt that much, so she buried it safely within her soul. Only one person had ever delved deep enough, gotten her emotionally vulnerable enough, to see her tragedies. No one else could. All of which worked perfectly well until she'd been dragged back to the scene of the many crimes against her heart by some terrific twist of fate.

"You mean _damn_ as in _damn, Chris Keller, you turn me on_?" asked a voice that seemed to come out of the darkness.

"Fuck!" Peyton cried, jumping approximately two feet in the air. "Dammit, Chris," she groaned as he came into full view. "You can't just do that to a person."

He approached her with his usual confident swagger, but she noticed something different about the way his eyes appeared. It must have been the low – basically nonexistent – lighting. "Well, then," he said simply, "What _would_ you like me to do you, Blondie?"

Her habitual sarcasm overcame even her worry and annoyance, it was just that natural to her after having to deal with multiple horny record execs. "Since you asked…" she said coyly, taking a step toward him and lightly pressing her fingertips to his chest. His heart rate sped up, she could feel it, and it almost made her feel bad for leading him on, though she couldn't deny the subtle boost it gave her beaten ego. But then he leered at her expectantly, and she remembered that he was Chris Keller, and her desire for revenge returned. "I want you," she breathed huskily, flattening her palm against his chest. Abruptly, she pushed him away, clearly startling him: "To leave me the hell alone," she concluded. "I can't handle it this summer, Chris. You brought me here, so I'm just a _little _pissed off at you."

"You didn't have to come, Peyton."

"Thanks, I've been reminded of that," she snapped.

Something shifted in his demeanour, and she realized that the…affection she saw in his eyes was not just a trick being played by the night. He looked concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked simply.

"Um, well, considering my daughter and I just had a fight and she ran off, not really," she muttered sarcastically.

Chris shook his head, looking as though he was in awe.

"What?" she demanded, annoyed by his know-it-all expression.

"You really love her. It's just…it's good. You're really good to her."

She studied him curiously. "Yeah, well…thanks, I guess." She shrugged. "It's not a big deal, Chris; of course I'm good to her. There's nothing complicated about it. I love her. She's my daughter."

"But I'm not, am I?" a scathing voice asked from another ebony-hued corner of the club.

Peyton's heart actually stopped beating for a moment. "Wh-what?" she whispered.

Jenny took three steps forward, purposeful, heavy steps. Her eyes were rimmed in red and full of a wild sense of shock. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I _said_," she bit out. "I'm _not_ your daughter, _am_ I?"

* * *

"Nathan?" Haley peered into the room, taking in his shocked expression worriedly. "Hey, what happened? Where'd she go? Is she…is everything okay?" She crossed the room and sat down next to him, instinctively reaching for his hand. "Nathan?"

He swallowed thickly and met his wife's gaze hesitantly. "I just fucked everything up."

"Nathan…I need you to explain this to me," she said with a nervous laugh. "What is it?"

"Uh, I…I may have kind of sort of possibly…"

"Nathan," Haley warned.

He took a deep breath and just blurted it all out: "I just told Jenny that Peyton's not her birth mother."

Haley, a big practitioner of honestly, frowned. "I don't understand. Why is that a problem? She's not."

"Yeah, but…Jenny didn't exactly…know that."

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Oh, God."

"Yeah."

"Oh, Nathan…damn it," she murmured. "Poor thing. I'm sure this isn't what she expected from this summer." She shook her head. "I can't believe Peyton…or Jake…never told her. I thought…Nicki had partial custody or something? And I mean, after what Peyton went through with Ellie, how could she?" She looked at him for clarification and answers.

He could only shrug helplessly. "I have no idea about any of that, but I do know that I probably just gave her one of the biggest shocks of her life. Crap. I should've just kept my mouth shut."

"There was no way for you to know," Haley said quietly. "It's late. Where do you think she went?"

Nathan shrugged again, feeling particularly pitiful. "Maybe to find Peyton?"

Haley nodded, pressing her lips together so hard that they turned white.

"Hales?" he asked.

She turned to him with tears in her pretty eyes. "I worry about her," she confessed in a strained whisper.

Nathan tenderly reached up to wipe her tears away, cupping her face in his hands. He was thankful that he could do _something_ right. "Who?"

Haley shrugged, shaking her head sadly. "Both of them." She pushed his hands away and cleaned her face up the best she could. "Oh, dammit, Nathan, I can't believe you told her that."

"You're the one who sent me in here to talk with her," he protested.

She stood up and started to pace. "She always calls Peyton 'mom'. We're such idiots for not picking up on all of this."

"Just because she addresses Peyton as her mother, it doesn't mean she thinks Peyton really is her biological mom," he argued.

"Shit," Haley muttered, moving out of the room. He shot to his feet and followed her. "I cannot believe you, Nathan. You know how much it means to have Peyton back in our lives. You _know_ how badly I want to keep her around. Why weren't you more careful? Don't you care?"

"Of course I do!" he said hotly, honestly. He wanted to keep the pair of blondes in their lives as well, and he certainly hadn't meant to mess anything up.

"I ask you to do one thing…" she grouched as she marched to their living room. "God, Nathan, you saw how fast she bolted last time, and no one even knows why! I don't know where Jenny is. She's technically my responsibility this summer, and she could get hurt! Even if she's fine, she could be gone tomorrow! Both of them!"

"That's not going to happen this time," he insisted, with no grounds for his claim.

"Of course you would say that," she scoffed, a single tear gliding town her cheek. She wiped it away angrily.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Haley glared at him, the kind of glare that meant he was definitely sleeping on the couch and that he'd be privileged to receive anymore than civil conversation with her until the issue was resolved. Her eyes were icy cold despite the tears they leaked. "Because if she disappears this time, it's _your_ fault."

* * *

Chris' eyes darted back and worth between mother and daughter. Or, mother and adoptive daughter. The two of them were engaged in a fierce staring contest, and neither looked willing to back down.

Jenny quirked her eyebrows expectantly. "Well?" she demanded, her voice crisp and cool.

Peyton was clearly being extraordinarily careful with the words she used. "What are you saying, Jenny?"

Jenny scoffed bitterly, looking older than she actually was despite her frazzled appearance. "Don't play dumb with me, Peyton," she said sourly.

"Honey," Peyton gasped in response to her daughter calling her by her first name.

"Don't call me 'honey', either! You have no right to do that! _You're not my mother_!"

"How…" Peyton began, desperate emotion filling her eyes.

"Uncle Nathan," Jenny began, calling him 'uncle' with pointed sarcasm, "let it slip that you and I aren't related. That you only even really _met_ my father _after_ I was born. I'm guessing you didn't tell them about _all_ the lies you're living."

Ouch. Peyton Sawyer's daughter – adoptive daughter, _whatever_ – certainly had perfected the art of delivering blows that hit home.

"Baby, please, let me…" Peyton trailed off. "I love you, Jenny, I _always_ have. Maybe I'm not your biological mother, but I feel like I am. I love you like I am," she shrugged, a small smile touching her lips momentarily.

Jenny shook her head. "Don't call me 'baby'. I can't take your…lying…anymore. Do I even have any connection to you? Should I even be living with you, without Dad?"

Peyton looked absolutely devastated. "I adopted you a long time about, Jen," she said softly. "Legally, you are my child, and you're my girl in a million other ways, too."

Jenny just stared at her. "Where's my real mother?" she asked calmly.

Peyton recoiled as though she'd been slapped, and Chris couldn't deny the sudden urge he felt to intervene. "Listen, Jenny, Peyton _is_ your real mom. She's been taking care of you your entire life."

Jenny turned to look at him as though he were certifiably insane. "A month ago, if you'd told me that Chris Keller would be defending my…fake mother…I would _not_ have believed that."

"But he's right, hon," Peyton insisted, quiet earnestness making her more powerful than it normally was. "I am. I have been. Nicki was…God, Jenny, I was just trying to protect you. There was never a reason for you to doubt our relationship, or get hurt by the past."

"The past," Jenny repeated. "Your past, right? Because that's all that matters."

"You are _part_ of my past."

Jenny shook her head stubbornly. "Where's my mom?"

"You mean, where's Nicki?" Peyton corrected, arching her eyebrows pointedly.

Her daughter's face twisted into a frown. "I mean, _where is my mother_?"

"I'm your mom, Jen, I've raised you and loved you and done everything I could for you. And because I love you, because I do everything I can for you…" Peyton lips trembled as she spoke, "I do not want to discuss Nicki with you."

"Is she dead?" Jenny asked point-blank, and Chris was amazed by her stoicism.

Peyton shook her head.

"Well, then, she's sure as hell better than you," Jenny spat out. "Where is she, Peyton?"

Peyton took in a shuddering breath, looking ready to burst into tears. "I don't know. And that's the honest truth," she insisted before Jenny could contradict her. "Dammit, honey, I don't…want to tell you this."

"Why?" she snapped. "Because Dad loved her more than he loved you? Because she would make a better mom? Because she's not pathetically hung up on whatever she had in high school?"

Peyton squeezed her eyes closed. When she opened them, they were such a deep green they almost looked brown. Chris realized that it was the shade her eyes got with grief, and he resisted the temptation to reach out and take her hand.

She looked directly into Jenny's eyes as she spoke, her voice full of an apology different from the one she herself owed the blonde teenager standing in front of her. "Because Nicki abandoned you when you were born, and the only reasons she had for looking back a couple times were in hopes of either rekindling her romance with your father or simply annoying and hurting him. Because Nicki never cared about you."

Jenny blinked. There was a profound honesty to Peyton's words that couldn't be debated, and Jenny suddenly looked fearful and lost. Her epic stand-off with her mother had come to a point when she wanted to take it all back, when she realized that her adoptive mother was all she had. Chris could easily read those thoughts in her eyes, her facial expression, and her physical stance.

"Sweetie," Peyton said softly, "I love you, and nothing else mattered. I just didn't think that it would be fair…for you to be hurt by that knowledge. Like you are now."

The anger built back up in Jenny's blue eyes. "You know what angers me, Mom?" she asked, harshly, her emotional stress making her forget that she'd purposefully been avoiding that term with Peyton. "That you lied to me about this, too. Something that directly affects me. That's what's not fair to me," she whispered, and turned on her heel and strode from the room.

"Baby," Peyton called pointlessly after her.

Chris stared at her worriedly. "Go after your girl," he instructed her impatiently.

She shook her head. "It won't do any good right now," she said mournfully. "She doesn't know anyone or anything here. She'll come back." She sank into a chair.

"I'm sorry, Peyton."

She looked confused by the genuine quality of his apology. "Thanks, Chris," she murmured. A tense moment passed, and then she stood abruptly. "Oh, God. I am the world's worst mother."

"No," he hastily assured her.

"Yeah, oh yeah, I am. She's not thinking straight, she's upset, and she doesn't know anything about this place. She's gone and anything could happen to her," she babbled. She rushed out of Tric in her new, more casual outfit, her curls bouncing lightly against her shoulders as Chris stole a look at her ass. Even when smitten by the prodigal daughter of One Tree Hill, he was still…well, Chris Keller. He was jarred back from his fantasies as he head her scream, "Jenny!" into the night, and hurried after her to help.

"Jenny!" Peyton called in anguish. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area frantically. "Okay. Okay. Chris, can you just…look for her, okay? I have to go to Haley's."

"Uh…okay. Yeah, okay." He was happy to help her. He began to walk briskly to his car, and then stopped. "Hey, um, Peyton?"

"What?" she asked, obviously not in the mood for anything unrelated to her daughter.

He shrugged. "It'll be okay."

She gave him a weak smile in return. "I hope," she said softly.

* * *

"Auntie Haley! Uncle Nathan!" Miranda called joyfully, flinging her arms around Haley's legs.

Brooke didn't say a word. She wished that she'd listened to the intelligent man she'd married. She was regretting her decision to stop by the Scott household unannounced. Nathan and Haley were clearly in the middle of a fight, which meant that Brooke found herself in an immensely awkward situation.

"Sorry," was all she said stupidly.

Nathan and Haley both blinked at her as though they'd forgotten that she existed – which Brooke had thought, until that moment, was impossible. "It's, um…" Haley seemed to be at a loss for words. "It's okay," she finally got out.

She frowned. "I'm really sorry for barging in, um...especially this late, but...what's going on, you two?"

Haley sighed. "Hey, Mira," she said softly to her niece, "why don't you go bug the twins? They'll still be awake, and I'm sure they'd be happy to play with you. Tell them that I said they have to share their toys, okay, cutie?"

Mira beamed, nodded, and ran off.

Haley and Nathan looked sad and conflicted. They exchanged a long, nervous look.

"You guys?" Brooke asked again. She was starting to worry.

"We should all sit," Nathan suggested lamely.

Brooke stepped over to a couch and sat down on it. "Okay, I'm sitting. Talk. Now. Tutor girl?" she asked, appealing to Haley.

"Listen…" Haley began, but she didn't seem able to say any more.

"Hey," Brooke said softly. She was beginning to panic. What could possibly be bad enough to warrant all their hesitation? "You can tell me anything," she assured them.

But she didn't need to be told. Before Nathan could offer up an explanation, the answer to her question stormed through the front door and into the living room so fast it was a blur.

Peyton Sawyer.

Fists clenched, eyes full of tears, loose blonde curls messy. As beautiful and as tragic as she had ever been. She was dressed in jeans, worn-in and comfortable, but her shirt struck Brooke, ever the fashionista, as uncharacteristic. It was pink silk, trimmed in lace with fluttery sleeves. She looked sad but happy, different but the same, older but familiar.

Peyton Sawyer.

Brooke shook her head in disbelief and struggled to get a hold of her breathing. "Peyton…?" she gasped, so softly it was probably inaudible to everyone else.

Her long-lost friend didn't notice her. She wasn't ignoring her, she just…didn't notice her. She clearly had other things on her mind as she charged toward Nathan. She fixed her uber-angry green orbs on Nathan and screamed, "How _dare_ you?"

"Peyton –" he tried, sounding remorseful.

Brooke's eyes darted back to Peyton to analyze her reaction. How long had she _been_ there? This was clearly Naley's big secret, the reason for Haley's distraction…how long had they known? How many times had they seen her? Were they ever planning on telling her that Peyton was back? And what had Nathan done to anger her so much?

"How dare you, Nathan?! You don't just get to tell her that. What the _fuck_?"

"Peyton…look, I'm sorry, but I kind of assumed that she'd know. That you would've told her?"

_Who_? Brooke wondered, struggling not to jump up and interfere.

"Who the hell are you to make that decision, huh? She's _my_ kid. She never needed to know. I didn't _want_ her to know. Can you even understand how much this will change things for us? You can't just _do_ that, Nathan." She shook her head, curls hitting her face violently. "You're just as much of an ass as you used to be. She's missing. My kid is missing. Do you know how terrifying this is?"

"No," he admitted softly. "Peyton –"

"Shut up and listen to me, okay? I don't give a fuck about technicalities, she is _my daughter_, and when I find her, we are going home. This was a mistake. All of it, it was a mistake. God…I don't know where my baby is!" She pressed her hands to her face and took a shaky breath.

Haley stood up, her eyes filled with sadness, and tentatively approached her. "Honey, we're so sorry. We didn't know. Let us help you look for her, okay? It's a small town. She can't have gone far; I'm sure she's safe. We'll find her, I know we will, and then we'll all…talk. I understand that you're scared right now, but you shouldn't go. Please don't. I'm sure we'll find Jenny right away. Everything'll be okay. Alright?"

Brooke stared at them in utter bewilderment, slowly gathering the facts in her head. Peyton had a kid. A daughter. Just like she did. She pressed her lips together in an effort to stem the threatening flow of tears. How had they reached a point where they missed the births of each other's children? How had they come to a place where they had daughters who weren't best friends, just like they'd been?

_Focus_, she lectured her overly emotional mind. Peyton had a daughter, and the kid had apparently found out something Peyton didn't want her to know, courtesy of Nathan. But how could Nathan have known a piece of information that Peyton had kept a secret from her child? A disturbing through snuck into the back of Brooke's brain. Had Nathan and Haley kept in contact with Peyton for all these years? Had they been lying all those times they'd sadly reflected on what Peyton's life must've been like? Brooke didn't mention Peyton often – it hurt, and besides, Peyton's parting words before she skipped town had been a decree of her love for the man Brooke had married, which made things just a little bit awkward.

She could only watch as Peyton gave in to Haley's offered hug. "It's okay, Peyton," Haley said softly, keeping her arms securely wrapped around their old friend as she walked her out of the room.

Brooke stared after them for a moment, mouth open, before whirling on Nathan. "You want to do some explaining, hotshot?" she demanded harshly.

"I, um, I really should…" He looked almost frightened of her as he gestured vaguely after his wife and the girl Brooke assumed he hadn't seen in twelve years.

And then there was Haley, standing in the doorway of the room, always the mediator, always the problem solver. "I want you to take a drive around town and see if you can find her. If you do, I want nothing but 'Everything's going to be okay; just come home so we can talk' to come out of that mouth of yours, do you understand me?" she asked her husband.

"Yes," he muttered, looking down at the floor in shame. He rose and skirted past her like a scolded puppy dog.

"Haley," Brooke said desperately. "What…"

"Oh, God, listen, Brooke…I'm so sorry, but I have to help Peyton right now…"

Brooke looked down at her hands, linked together in her lap. "Right. Of course you do."

"I'm sorry," Haley said earnestly, her eyes pleading for understanding. "We'll talk, Tigger, I promise you," she insisted, and then bolted off.

Brooke sighed and slouched back onto the couch. Peyton Sawyer had been back for like three point seven seconds, and Haley and Nathan had _already _picked her over Brooke. Probably with good cause, she knew, but she was so shocked that she figured she was allowed a little irrationality. Her biggest fear with Lucas had always been coming in second, and now, well…Peyton Sawyer was back.

**A/N:** That's all for today..I have to keep you guessing. If you get bored, you could check out the oneshot I just published, which is L/P and N/H but rewinds in a sort of exploration of Nathan and Peyton's relationship. I've run out of ways to tell you how much I love reviews, but if you could leave me one, that would be fabulous.


	9. Miserere

**A/N: **You didn't beat your review record, but you're still the greatest reviewers ever. Thank you, everyone, for all your positivity, I really do love you for it. I've got big things planned for this story, and it always helps to know that you're sticking with me. A lot of you predicted that Jenny would run to the river court and find Lucas...well, you were partially right. There are two things that I'd like you to do after you finish reading this:

1) Leave me a review because you're awesome.

2) Go to YouTube - right now, I mean it - and type in "one tree hill season five gag reel", posted by one of those nice people who got a copy of season 5 on DVD early due to retail screw-ups. Joy and Hilarie are adorably funny together, and Paul will crack you up, too.

Miserere: a Latin term, literally: "have mercy", it is often used to title plaintive, haunting Italian pieces written to correspond with or inspired by Biblical passages

Jenny bolted from Tric as fast as her feet would carry her and didn't look back. She marched down the streets of Tree Hill determinedly, trying as hard as she could to avoid the shadows cast by the night and the eerie, paranoid feeling they gave her. She'd never handled darkness well.

She felt relief flood her body when she spotted light falling across the pavement from around a corner. Cautiously, she approached the bend and peeked around it. A grassy field surrounded a paved basketball court with metal-netted hoops. Lights flooded the area and spotlighted the sole figure, a boy about her age, who was shooting hoops in sweats and a t-shirt.

She sighed and smiled at the nonthreatening sight. Quietly, covered by the night, she made her way to the court, watching him the entire time. The sound of a basketball bouncing and the jangling of the metal as the ball swished through the hoop gave her a solitary sense of the kind of peacefulness she associated with home.

The boy took a shot. The ball arced perfectly through the air, but ended up hitting the backboard and rebounding at a violent speed over to where Jenny stood. Without thinking, she grabbed it and took her own shot. The ball flew up and into the basket.

"Jenny," a happily shocked voice said, and her eyes flew over to the boy only to find that it was Jordan Lynd. "Hey."

She gave him a soft smile in return. "Hey."

He studied her for a moment. "Are you breaking curfew?"

"I didn't know we had one," she countered, arching her eyebrows. She nodded toward the ball, which had rolled back over to Jordan's feet. "You wanna play?"

"Play…ball?"

"No, truth or dare," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "Yes, ball," she laughed. "What, you can't handle a girl beating you?"

He appraised her and grinned. "I think I can handle your game."

"We'll see about that," she replied smoothly, snatching the ball up from his feet and sending another ball into the basket with practiced ease.

He caught her rebound and dunked as though he felt it necessary to redeem himself. "You're pretty good."

"That surprises you, huh?"

Jordan simply shrugged and tossed her the ball. He bent down, concentrating on her as he prepared to block any of her moves. She grinned and faked him out easily, casually tossing the basketball up and scoring another three-pointer.

"You're _really _good," he marvelled.

"Yep." She wasn't in a conversational mood; she just wanted to play and get out some of her stress.

"Where'd you learn?" Jordan prodded. Had anyone else asked her that question at that moment, she wouldn't have been pleased, but there was something so genuine about his curiosity that she couldn't be angry.

"My dad and I used to play a lot when I was younger."

"Cool; my dad taught me, too. You guys still play?"

She shook her head. "He's not in my life anymore," she replied, looking down at the asphalt beneath their feet.

"I'm sorry. Is that why you're so upset?"

"Excuse me?" she asked.

He grinned abashedly. "I know you're not supposed to say this to a girl, but you look like hell."

"Thanks, Jordan," she told him, making a face.

"You know what I mean," he said with such kindness it surprised her. "What's going on, Jenny?"

She dropped the ball and crossed her arms. "I just found out that…my mom…isn't actually my mom."

He whistled. "Damn. That sucks."

"I just…I can't believe she kept that from me. I don't think my dad would have let her, or that…he would have wanted her to. But then…my mom – Peyton," she amended, "told me that my real mother basically abandoned me, and used me to get to my dad. So now…I kind of feel like an idiot for blowing up at her, but she hurt me, too, and…" She exhaled shakily. "I would really just like to talk to my dad, you know? To find out what's real and what the truth is."

"Sure. That makes sense," Jordan said sweetly. "You have any idea how to contact him?"

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "No," she whispered, and looked up at him sadly. He just looked so _nice_ and perfect standing there that part of her wanted to kiss him, and another part of her just didn't went to have to deal with feeling anything anymore. "Sorry for unloading all of this on you," she muttered, scuffing the toe of her shoe.

Jordan shrugged. "Happy to listen." After a beat, he bounced the ball over to her and she caught it automatically, looking up at him quizzically. He smiled softly. "Let's play. Twenty-one."

* * *

Brooke paced Nathan and Haley's relatively clean home impatiently. About thirty seconds after Haley walked out the front door; she walked back in and cried, "You'll stay here with the kids, right? Thanks!" and rushed back out before Brooke could even open her mouth to protest.

She glanced at the clock, coming to terms with the fact that Nathan, Haley, and Peyton probably wouldn't be returning any time soon. Miranda needed to go to bed, and Lucas would be wondering where she was.

Lucas. Her husband. Her husband who'd once been hopelessly in love with Peyton. She frowned as she pulled out her cell phone, unsure of what to tell him. The truth seemed like the obvious option, but she wasn't sure that it was in her best interest. She speed-dialled their home number and decided to just blurt out whatever she thought was best after she heard his voice.

"Hey. You figure out the big mystery?" he asked by way of greeting, his tone playful.

"Hey back. Um, no, but…listen, Nate and Haley had to run out, so I'm kind of stuck babysitting for a bit. Miranda really needs to sleep so…it might be best if we just stay here overnight. I'm really not sure how long they'll be; we can just crash in the guest room." That was a good plan. There was no chance of Lucas encountering Peyton, and Brooke would be there the minute her friends arrived home so that she could get the story.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. It's fine."

"Do you want me to come over there, too? I could crash on the couch and let you and Mira have the bed." he suggested.

"No!" she cried. More calmly, she repeated, "No. This isn't a big deal at all. You write, Broody, and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." She didn't add the three words that would usually follow a parting statement. She wanted him to say it first.

"Okay. I love you."

She let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Love you, too," she replied softly before snapping her phone closed and tossing it back into her purse.

She walked upstairs and down the hallway to the room the six-year-olds shared. "Hey, handsome boys," she greeted them with a wide smile. They were just so irresistible. She crouched down and opened her arms for a hug.

They both jumped up to fling their little arms around her neck. "Auntie Brooke!" Nick cried delightedly. "I _missed_ you."

"Aw, honey, you saw me like three days ago," she laughed. "But thank you. Hey, Noah. How're you doing?"

He gave her that precious small smile. "Good."

Brooke released them both, her smile still a permanent fixture on her face. "Hey, Mira, baby…time for bed. You boys, too."

"Are we going home?"

"Are Mommy and Daddy coming to tuck us in?"

"Ten more minutes, Aunt Brooke, _please_?"

"Nope, bedtime," Brooke told them briskly. "Put down the toys and crawl in; I'm going to tuck you in tonight, I'm babysitting. Miranda and I are staying here."

"Yay!" Nick cheered as he hopped into bed.

Brooke kissed the foreheads of both the adorable little boys. They were a little hyped up, but she could see how heavy their eyelids were. They'd fall asleep soon enough. She flicked on their nightlight and extended a hand to her little girl, who was dressed in her pyjama pants and a tiny Clothes over Bro's hoodie. "Come on, sweetie, time for sleep."

Miranda took her hand obediently, waving goodnight to her cousins as they left the room. "This is like a sleepover," she said happily.

"Yeah," Brooke agreed, picking her up and cuddling her, nuzzling their noses together to make Miranda giggle. "I'm going to borrow pyjamas from Auntie Haley, and we'll sleep in the guest room, and have pancakes for breakfast," she said enthusiastically. Balancing her daughter on one hip, she opened the door to the guest room and stopped in her tracks.

The minimal décor in the room screamed of Peyton, and the half-opened, rummaged-through suitcases indicated a recent arrival. It hadn't even occurred to Brooke that Peyton might be staying with Brooke's siblings-in-law – she thought that, at the very least, they would have told her _that_. She shook her head. It wasn't like Haley to lie.

She carefully set Miranda down and took a couple tentative steps into the room. There was a leather jacket flung carelessly onto the bed, along with a couple pairs of jeans and a purple shirt. A poster of a band Brooke didn't recognize was sticky-tacked to the wall, a little bit crookedly. The dresser was already messily crowded with everyday grooming items: deodorant, flat iron, hair elastics, eye drops, lip gloss, mascara, and a collection of appropriately out-there jewellery.

The CDs on the corner of the dresser were what caught Brooke's eye. She picked them up and flipped them over to read through the songs, looking for anything she recognized. One of the CDs was familiar to her – Tegan and Sara, the same stuff she and Peyton had listened to back in high school. She smiled to herself. She normally hated how things never seemed to change, how life seemed to be stuck in a demented pattern, but this one piece of the girl she'd once known provided her with a strange comfort.

Underneath the CDs was a small pile of photographs. Brooke set the discs aside and picked them up gingerly. A group of teenagers looked back at her, mid-laugh when the picture was taken. The next picture consisted of a smaller group of two girls and one guy, draped all over each other, the girls leaning in jokingly on either side to kiss the guy's cheeks. She frowned. No one in the pictures looked familiar to her; then again, she didn't exactly know anything about Peyton's life anymore. She flipped through a couple more shots packed with happy, relatively innocent, good-looking teens before coming to a picture that made her heart skip a beat.

Peyton. Peyton and Jake, to be more accurate, clearly unaware that the photograph was being taken. It had to have been taken in high school, because the two of them looked exactly as Brooke remembered. They were at a party, it appeared, but neither of them held cups – it gave Brooke the distinct impression that the sweetly smitten expressions they were wearing were the result of genuine emotion, not alcohol. They were sitting close together on someone's beaten up couch, Peyton basically in Jake's lap, their limbs tangled together. He was leaning close to her as though he'd been whispering, and must have just said something amusing, because she was laughing, her eyes bright. Their noses touched.

The picture was aged, ripped a little at the corners, and had clearly been kept by its owner for years, hidden away in some secret place. It proved that her assumption had been correct: after professing her love for Brooke's boyfriend, Peyton had run back to Jake. But even Brooke, who was still a little bitter about everything, couldn't deny how happy they looked, how completely in love with each other they were. Had Peyton ever really loved Lucas, or had it just been some kind of sick habit? And if it was a habit, why was it one that Brooke feared so much?

"Mommy? Are we sleeping in here?" Mira peered up at her expectantly with sleepy, curious eyes.

Brooke looked back at her apologetically. "I'm sorry, honey, I don't know…I thought…" There was no way to explain the situation to her five-year-old. She placed the photograph down only to find one last one behind it. Peyton, in present time, with her cheek pressed up to that of a blonde teenager Brooke recognized from the earlier photos. One of them was obviously taking the picture, she could tell from the way they leaned together. The happiness was evident not in their smiles, but their eyes. With the kind of care one attributed to breakable objects, Brooke flipped it over to read the flawlessly cool writing on the back: _I guess you say: what can make me feel this way? My girl. Happy fourteenth, babe. _She recognized the song lyrics, of course, and she most certainly recognized the handwriting.

She squinted at the picture in frustration. Was the girl with the deep, intense eyes and mess of blonde hair Peyton's daughter? Was _she_ living with the Scotts for some unknown reason? How could Peyton's daughter possibly be fourteen, that would mean that Peyton would have had to have had a child secretly while she and Brooke were still the best of friends, when they were only –

And then, all the puzzle pieces fell into place so perfectly that Brooke was shocked at her own stupidity. Of course. The photograph of Jake and Peyton said it all.

Little Jenny Jagielski, the cutest kid Brooke had seen at that time in her life when she'd known Jake's baby, all grown up and very much like the woman who had clearly raised her. And she'd obviously inherited talent from her hot, used-to-be-single dad: she was Haley's camper kid, the kid Nathan had upset so badly, and the kid who was currently missing.

"Whoa," she muttered. Okay, so Jenny was there, but why had Peyton come with her? Where was Jake? Were they both staying with Nathan and Haley?

"Mommy?" Miranda pouted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other impatiently. "I wanna go to sleep."

"Yeah, sweetie, of course you do. I'm sorry. Come here," she said lovingly, lifting her daughter up again. Miranda was getting too big for her to carry, but Brooke needed to hold her. There was something about Peyton's reappearance that filled her with insecurity, and since she'd become a mother, her insecurity tended to present itself in the form of protectiveness.

"I love you," Miranda murmured spontaneously, the way only a little kid can. She rested her small head of wavy brown hair against Brooke's collarbone and closed her eyes.

"You, too," Brooke told her fondly as she laid her out across one the couches. She snatched up a throw that had been carelessly flung onto a chair and tucked her daughter in with great precision and care. "Sleep tight, princess."

Even though she'd eaten ice cream with Miranda while she worked, she was in desperate need for some more. She raided the Scott freezer and found a plentiful supply, essential in a house with four energetic boys. She filled a bowl with strawberry cheesecake flavoured ice cream and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer. Nathan and Haley's house was as familiar to her as her own. They were her family.

She curled up on the couch opposite the one her daughter laid on and just watched her baby breathe as she ate. She felt a little as though she were mourning some sort of loss. She knew it was stupid, but when it came to Lucas, Peyton may as well have had a flashing neon sign above her head that declared: DANGER. And the fact of the matter was that Nathan and Haley had kept her return a secret. If she'd learned anything from Lucas' life philosophies, it was that keeping something secret indicated something larger at work, and it generally came accompanied by a sense of foreboding. It scared her to think it, but it was the one thought that was haunting her mind: had Peyton come back for Luke?

Brooke wondered if she was being self-absorbed. Maybe Peyton had just come with Jenny so that she could go back home and see everyone again. But couldn't she have called Brooke? Her supposed best friend? Her supposed best friend who also happened to be married to the boy who'd once captured Peyton's heart in an intense, epic way. The mere thought of their romance made Brooke want to scream.

After two bites, she got so frustrated that she lost interest in her ice cream and set it aside, crossing her arms across her chest and staring at the wall of the living room. Haley spent nearly a month making the entirely bare wall of the room into something beautiful when she was on maternity leave after Sebastian's birth. It was completely covered in glass-framed black-and-white photographs, and it was one of Brooke's favourite things to look at. She loved the combination of posed family photos mixed with the completely random but sweet. After having looked at the wall countless times, she could easily pick out her favourites. In the very middle, Nathan and Haley beaming with their four beautiful boys. On the right near the bottom, ten-year-old Haley planting a kiss on eleven-year-old birthday boy Lucas' cheek. Just to the left of the middle, Brooke hugging Haley, her maid of honour, tightly, right before she walked down the aisle to Luke. Up near the top, Jamie giving Miranda a piggyback.

In the top right corner was one picture that never came up in conversation, and that they'd only ever talked about once, right after Haley unveiled her masterpiece to the all. Brooke had climbed up on a chair so to better look at the pictures that were way up high, and had lost her breath for a moment when her eyes settled on the inconspicuous three-by-five tucked neatly away in the top corner. Peyton leaning back happily against Lucas' chest in their junior year of high school, his arms wrapped around her comfortingly, yet possessively. Haley snuck into the picture at the last second, wearing that ugly-ass poncho of hers, to give Lucas bunny ears, and both Peyton and Luke were looking up at her, laughing delightedly.

When she'd noticed it, Haley pulled up a step stool next to her so that they could be at the same level as they spoke. Haley's hand landed gently on her shoulder as she said softly, "I'm sorry. It was the only picture of her that I had, and it just seemed so…wrong…for her not to be there." After a pause in which Brooke didn't respond, "Don't let it bother you, okay? I miss her. She's a friend, so she deserves to be there. Luke loves you."

"I know," Brooke had replied just as softly, and covered the wave of jealousy she'd felt over with sadness: "I just miss her, too."

Now, the sight of that shot and the gentle purity of the happiness on the faces of the deeply connected boy and girl made her frown. Lucas had promised to love her forever.

But she knew for a fact that he'd once made the same promise to the girl he held close in the picture that mocked her.

You're mine forever.

_A picture is worth a thousand words_. Considering the photographs Brooke had found that evening, the old adage had never been so true.

The only problem was that she had no sweet clue what any of the words were.

* * *

Haley kept glancing over at Peyton worriedly as they coasted through the late-night quiet of the streets of Tree Hill. Peyton was unpredictable behind the wheel in the first place, so Haley had refused to let her drive considering her friend's currently messy emotions.

Peyton looked around, struggling to appear calm as she wiped away the tears that kept slipping out of her eyes. "Watch the road, Haley," she said dryly.

She blushed. "Sorry. Just have a little faith, okay? She's fine, I know it."

Peyton didn't take her eyes off the surrounding area, nor did she speak. Haley's heart went out to her. Haley had lost Jamie when he was five for about thirty seconds in the grocery store, and she'd though that she'd die if she didn't see him again. Mothers worried, she knew that for a fact, and Peyton was no different.

"Let's swing by the river court and see if she made her way there, okay? It's pretty close to Tric."

"Chris probably already looked there, then," Peyton said faintly.

"Chris…Keller?" She could hardly believe that he'd be willing to help Peyton out. Then again, he had confessed that he was interested in her. There'd been an innocence in Chris' infatuation that had made her uneasy. It was hard to her to really believe that he earnestly, honestly _liked_ Peyton, but if he was willing to help her search for her child…

She sighed impatiently. "How many Chris' do we both know?" she snapped, and then buried her face in her hands again. "God, I'm sorry, I'm just…she has to be okay, Hales," she said, her voice shaking. "She's all I've got."

Haley reached over to give her hand a squeeze. "She's okay, Peyton. You've got to believe that."

* * *

"Oh, was that…twenty-one?" Jenny asked innocently, smirking as she extended her arms to catch her rebound.

Jordan chuckled. "Yeah, it was."

"So…what does that mean, exactly?" she questioned, arching her eyebrows. She wanted to hear him say it.

"I think it means you win."

"Ah. Yeah. That's right, it does," she grinned. Her brief game of b-ball with Jordan had really taken her mind off the hell she'd just gone through. He was funny and sweet, and actual competition for her. It'd been a close game. "Don't lie…" she began, eyeing him seriously, "but did you let me win?" It would do wonders for her self-worth if he hadn't.

He grinned back at her, looking a little embarrassed. "You don't know how badly I wish I had. You kicked my ass."

"Nah," she responded happily. "You're really good." She bounced the ball back over to him.

"Oh, well, coming from you that means so much," he teased, making her laugh. "Listen, Jenny, I gotta get back. Drew – my mentor – will freak out if I'm out too late."

"Yeah, sure. Of course." The smile that had come so easily moments before seemed a lot more difficult to muster up. She still didn't know what to do or where to go, and she wished she could just stay lost in the game and this boy.

"You want me to walk you home?" he offered.

She shook her head. "I think I might stay here for a little bit."

Jordan took a couple steps toward her. "Listen, Jenny…I had a lot of fun with you tonight. It was really good seeing you smile, and I'd really like to hang out again. But…that's not going to happen if I leave you here to be kidnapped and murdered. Let me walk you home."

She blushed and looked down at her shoes. "I'd like that. But I can't go home. I don't even…know where home is right now, and even if I did…I'm not sure I'd like to be there."

He frowned, concern slipping into the creases of his face. "I gotta get back, but I can't leave you here."

"No, go. I'll be fine."

"Jenny. Don't be stupid."

Her stubborn side, a trait she always assumed she'd inherited genetically from her mother, took hold of her as she stuck out her chin defiantly. "Not leaving."

They stood there, at a stalemate, for quite a while. She didn't mind; she appreciated the chance to just look at him.

The roar of a car's engine broke their peaceful trance. They both turned to look as two women spilled out of it and rushed over, wearing immensely relieved expressions.

"Jenny!" Peyton cried.

Jordan reached out and gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, his eyes kind. "I'll be seein' ya," he told her quietly before tucking his ball under his arms, and, smart boy that he was, getting out of there as fast as his feet would carry him.

Jenny could tell just from looking at Peyton that she was aching to hug her, and in truth, Jenny wouldn't have minded that hug too much. But she had more pride than that. "What?" she snapped.

"Honey…I know you're upset with me, and I know I've made mistakes, but you can't just disappear on me, you know better than that!"

Her mother – adoptive mother, she supposed – looked so broken that Jenny wanted to cry. She just wanted to fall in her arms and let Peyton tell her that everything was going to be okay. Her mom was everything to her when it came to family. They almost never fought, and this rift was hard for her to take. "I know," she said softly.

"Will you please come home with me, babe? We can talk, I promise you, _really_ talk. I'll tell you whatever you need to know." Her eyes were pleading. "I'm so sorry, Jen. But you need to know that I love you like you're my own daughter, and I honestly think that I have since the first day I saw you. And that's never going to change."

Jenny felt her chin quivering like she was three years old again, and her mother, sensing her near-breakdown, opened her arms slightly, extending the offer of comfort. "I can't," she said sadly, wishing that she could just lie and let everything go back to normal. "Not now."

Peyton nodded understandingly. "Okay," she said softly, looking a little more like she was in control of her emotions. "Sweetie, I've been where you've been, in a way, and I…" She exhaled tiredly. "Another story for another time. I just know, okay? I know how hard this is, and I hate myself for putting you in this position, but it was a choice between two evils and picked the one I thought would keep you safe. I really did."

Jenny crossed her arms, bringing one fist up to her chin and then pressing her lips into it to keep from sobbing. "Mom," she choked out. "I…"

Her mother took a couple of tentative steps toward her, nodding. "I know, baby. Hey. Will you go home with Haley? Please?"

She looked up to see her mentor-slash-aunt watching them with tears glistening in her eyes. She reached out a single hand to Jenny and left it there, hanging in the air between them lightly, an open invitation. "Yeah?" Haley whispered kindly.

She nodded a couple times, the movements of her head quick as she fought uselessly against the onslaught of tears. Peyton closed the gap between them, and Jenny prayed that she wouldn't hug her because she knew that would only result in a full-out meltdown.

Peyton knew her better than that, of course. She simply brushed Jenny's hair back so that she could place a soft kiss on her temple, murmuring, fierce affection in her voice, "You are _my_ girl. That's the truth. Don't ever forget it." And then, with the light touch of her hand on Jenny's back, she steered her daughter over to her old friend.

Jenny walked unsteadily toward her, vision blurred by tears, and clasped Haley's hand tightly. Haley returned the pressure with a comforting squeeze. She pulled Jenny to her by that hand, wrapping her arm warmly around her shoulders and pulling her in closer so that Jenny could rest her head against her shoulder as she slowly walked her back to the car. "It's okay," she said softly. "It's okay if you need time."

"For what?" she asked in a strangled voice.

Haley held her even tighter and sighed. "Peyton loves you _so much_, Jenny. That's all you need to know, but it's okay if you need time to get there."

**A/N: **Please review. And watch that gag reel; it'll make you smile.


	10. Verismo

**A/N: **You're the best readers ever, and I ask for two things from you: reviews and patience. I always map out my stories because my biggest fear is that I'll write myself into a rut. Believe me when I say: the best is yet to come, and yes, that **definitely includes Lucas/Peyton** interaction. I hope it'll be worth the wait. I'm excited about this chapter, though, I feel that it provides some good movement in the storyline.

Just a reminder: Everything up until the season three finale goes, but no further. Which of course means: no Psycho Derek, no Real Derek, no Dan/Karen dating, no Clean Teens, no sex tape scandal, and Lucas and Peyton have never had sex.

Forgive my babbling, but here it is: Life is catching up with me, invading my blissful little bubble of summer, and that means that my insanely fast updates are going to end. This is going to sound melodramatic, but I really do have some intense family drama going on. On top of that, my senior year of high school starts in a week and my senior year at my dance program the week after that. And on top of all of that, my grandfather just got sick. So, there are my excuses...I think they're pretty valid. I'm not about to abandon this story - I'm deeply invested in it - but my updates will not be as often, especially because I hold myself to a 4000 word minimum per chapter. What I'm trying to say here is that I'll be back...it just might be a week or two. Thanks for reading and as always...review please. If anything will encourage fast updates, that's it.

Verismo: a musical term generally applied to a certain type of 19th century opera; the literal meaning of the word is "realism"

Peyton sat down on the asphalt of the river court for a few minutes, pulling her knees up to her chest. She would go home soon. Jenny was okay. She just needed to breathe for a moment.

She took in her surroundings, trying to calm her uneven breaths. She could remember the first time she'd ever been here, for that stupid one-on-one game Lucas and Nathan had gotten into in junior year, the built-up tension between the brothers coming to its climax. She remembered when Nathan elbowed him sharply, unfairly, and she remembered the unexpected fury she felt against her boyfriend and the even more unexpected worry she felt so deeply for a boy she didn't even know.

She could remember the second time she'd ever been there, to apologize to Lucas for what Nathan had done to his preferred practice space, his home, in a way. And to thank him for believing in her, and in her art. The question that left his lips surprised her. _Why do you stay with him_? Because sometimes it was good, and sometimes there was no one else. She could remember the answer that lurked in her mind, unspoken: because I'm scared of what I feel for you, and he's a jerk, but he's safe because he doesn't have the power to hurt my heart the way you could.

Her third time there was after open-mic night at the café. She'd been hurting, her heart irreversibly tied to Lucas even though he'd chosen someone else. She'd felt horrible for how much she cared about her best friend's boy. But it'd also been the night she first ever spoke to Jake. And the way he looked at her made her blush and filled her with hope. He and Jenny seemed to offer some sort of opening in their family, as though they were waiting for her, and it made it seem like things weren't that horrible. Jake gave her hope. Always had, always did.

The fourth time she'd been there was right after Lucas' accident, and her heart had been so full. She felt so guilty for betraying Brooke, and though she wanted to deny it, she was head-over-heels for the boy lying unconscious in a hospital bed. As she drew on the pavement with sure strokes of her chalk, she wished that her need alone would be enough to wake him up. Other than her mother, he was the only other person that she'd ever wanted to see open his eyes _so badly_. There'd been a moment when she sat back, dropping her chalk, and resisted the urge to scream. She was in love with him, and she hated herself for it and the universe for threatening to take him away.

"Peyton?" a soft voice asked, and she looked up, hastily wiping at her eyes, to find Chris Keller staring at her worriedly.

"Hi," she whispered vulnerably.

He crouched down next to her, studying her face. "What's up?" he asked, an all-encompassing question.

She chose to answer only the important part: "Jenny's fine. She went home with Haley."

"Okay," he replied softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder lightly. The comfort of the gesture made her crumble. She was just so tired and scared. She needed someone on her side. "It's gonna be okay," he said.

"I wish it were," she said mournfully, appreciating the kind light in his eyes.

"Have a little faith."

She chuckled sadly. "That's what Haley said."

"Smart woman."

"Yeah…I guess. It's just hard."

"I know," he said comfortingly, and then stood, stretching his legs. He gently hooked the hand that was on her shoulder under her arm and pulled her up with him. She was shaking. "Let's get you home. Okay?" Carefully, as though he thought she would either freak or flip out at him, he slipped his arm around her shoulders.

There was a time in her life when she would have slapped Chris Keller if he'd come within five feet of her. He'd managed to ruin the relationships of her two very best friends, and Peyton wasn't a forgive-and-forget kind of girl. But as she leaned into him gratefully, all she could think of was how happy she was that he was there.

* * *

Brooke was sitting the couch, both feet on the floor, tapping her toes irritably. Her frown had become a pretty permanent fixture on her face. The clock was mocking her mercilessly. The second hand was moving every three minutes, she was sure of it.

At last, _finally_, she heard the front door open and the soft, melodic murmur of Haley's voice. She shot up from the couch, casting one last glance at her daughter to make sure she was soundly asleep, and took off for the entryway of the house.

"_There_ you are!" she cried huffily, making sure to keep her tone moderately soft.

Haley looked up to meet her eyes and Brooke stopped short. Next to Haley, toeing off a pair of flats, was the blonde teenager from the pictures. She looked up too, through red-rimmed eyes, looking at Brooke quizzically.

Haley placed a comforting hand on Jenny's back. "Sweetie, go get ready for bed, okay? Put on some new PJs and wash your face. I'll come talk to you in a minute, alright?"

Jenny nodded slowly, still eyeing Brooke. "Who're you?" she asked, her voice raw from excessive crying.

"Not now, honey," Haley told Jenny in her ultra-sweet, comforting voice. "Go lie down. I'll be there soon." She nudged Jenny toward the stairs, shooting Brooke a warning look so that she wouldn't launch into the offended tirade she usually spouted off when someone failed to properly recognize her. She had a clothing line and a magazine. She felt she deserved a little fame.

Brooke's heart went out to Jenny. She didn't know the younger girl, but she was clearly in rough shape. None of this was her fault, after all. She found it hard to believe that the miserable fourteen-year-old standing in front of her was the same as the impossibly adorable little baby she'd once played with at the river court.

When Jenny was safely out of earshot, Haley stated the obvious: "Jenny. Jake's girl."

Brooke arched her eyebrows. "I'm not stupid, tutor girl. I knew that." She gave in at Haley's don't-mess-with-me-right-now look. "I snooped," she confessed, wincing.

Haley offered her a weak smile. "Why does that not surprise me?" she muttered.

"Haley," Brooke said gently. "What's going on?"

Haley's eyelids closed, her lashes fluttering. "Just let me call Nathan first, okay? He needs to know that she's okay."

She tried not to show her impatience as she nodded and watched as Haley fished her cell out of her purse and pressed a couple buttons. Haley ran a hand through her hair as she waited for Nathan to pick up. "Hey," she said, relief filling her voice when her husband answered, that tone that indicated how grateful she was to hear the voice of the person she could truly count on taking over her voice. "Jenny's okay. Peyton and I found her at the river court. I brought her back here." She paused. "Peyton? Um…I don't know, you can check on her if you want. I did just kind of abandon her at the river court. I think she'll be okay, Nathan…I really just want you home. Is that selfish of me?" She smiled softly. "Thank you. I'll see you soon."

"He's coming home right away?"

"Yeah." She nodded toward the living room. "You want to go sit down?"

"Mira's asleep in there."

"Oh. Okay." Haley contemplated the situation for a moment, then folded her legs under her and plunked down on the floor. She patted the space beside her. "C'mon, princess, the floor won't kill you."

Brooke made a face and sat next to her. She crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows. "How long have they been here?"

"They just got here yesterday. Jenny's the kid I'm mentoring, and Chris wouldn't tell me her name…and then I get to the airport and she's like, hey, I'm Jenny Jagielski. I thought I was going to lose it; I never thought I'd see her again…I just wanted to hug her, but I knew it would freak her out. And then…she says that her mom insisted on coming with her, and I turn around expecting to see Nicki…and Peyton's standing there," she shrugged.

"Wow. Haley…why didn't you call me?"

"It was such a shock…I wasn't thinking, and then when I finally did…it's just so much history, Brooke. I don't know what happened with you two, but I know you fought, and of course, Peyton and…"

"Lucas," Brooke filled in, her lips twisting into a bitter smile.

"I didn't want to hide it from you, it was just that…she's _back_, Brooke. I've missed her like hell and I never thought I was going to see her again! Now she's met my kids, and she's around and…this is already so hard on Jenny that I just didn't want to bring anymore drama to the whole situation."

"You couldn't hide her all summer!" she exclaimed.

"That wasn't my plan!" Haley protested.

"Well then, what _was_?"

She shook her head. "I didn't have one," she admitted quietly, a tough confession for the smartest person in their group.

"Haley…where's Jake?"

Her friend shrugged helplessly. "She came over for dinner tonight, and the first thing she said to us when she walked through the door was that we shouldn't talk about Jake. For Jenny's sake, but I could tell that she couldn't handle it either."

Brooke bit her bottom lip uneasily. "Do you think he's…?"

Haley looked so sad. "I don't know. The way she talked about him…it was like he left her, but I can't see him doing that. Jake loved Peyton so much."

Brooke let the breath she'd been holding in. "What happened tonight? With Nathan and all the drama?"

Haley reached up to scratch the back of her neck, a typical nervous habit. "Um…it turns out that Peyton never told Jenny that she adopted her. All these years, she's believed that Peyton's actually her mom, which isn't ridiculous…I mean, look at her. But Nathan and I didn't know, and he accidentally revealed it to her. It's going to be a rough summer for that girl."

"Well, if Peyton hadn't lied to her…"

"Brooke," Haley scolded her lightly, clearly disappointed. "Don't do this."

She didn't know what the say to the mixture of shame and sadness of Haley's face, but Nathan saved her by walking through the door. "Hey," he said, a small, confused smile touching his lips when he saw them sitting on the floor.

"Miranda's asleep in the living room," Haley offered by way of explanation, scrambling to her feet to hug him, melting into his arms.

Nathan frowned as he squeezed her back. "Why didn't Luke come pick her up?"

"I thought she could sleep in the guest room," Brooke said pointedly as she pushed herself up and brushed off her sleek black, wide-leg pants. "But that was already occupied."

"Okay, and so after you realized that, you didn't call Luke _because_…?"

She pouted at him, not wanting to admit her reasons.

"Oh, Brooke," Haley sighed. "You're seriously not going to tell him?" She released her husband and took Brooke by the shoulders, meeting her eyes seriously. "Peyton is not a threat to your marriage. Let it go," she advised kindly.

"Easy for you to say," Brooke scoffed, looking at her with a dare in her eyes. "She didn't used to screw your husband."

Nathan grimaced. "Uh…" He shifted his weight from one foot to another, looking uncomfortable.

Haley shot him a quick glare. "Actually, she did," she said, lifting her chin. "Mine, not yours. She's not here for Lucas, she's here for her daughter. Luke loves _you_, Brooke. He picked you."

She smiled faintly, remembering the day he'd chosen her, told her that he wanted her to be his. "He did," she agreed reluctantly.

"Okay. And he has you. So tell him she's back."

She felt a sense of mounting panic. "No. Not yet."

"Brooke," Nathan sighed.

"No, it's just…" She searched her mind for an excuse and found a pretty good one. "He's leaving for New York in couple days anyway. I'll just wait until he gets back," she reasoned, pasting on a pretty smile.

Haley heaved a heavy sigh. "Nathan, go make sure the boys are asleep, okay?"

He rolled his eyes. "Subtle dismissal, Hales. Do you want me to check on Jenny?"

The look on her face was comically incredulous. "Do you remember what happened the last time I asked that of you?"

"Right," he said, smiling guiltily as he backed away. "I'm gone."

Haley turned back to Brooke. "Listen, Tigger, Lucas loves you. I know you both well enough to know that that fact is set in stone, and that he has nothing but confidence in your relationship. But if you hide this from him, when you find out that he did, he's going to know that you did it for a reason. Won't it hurt him to realize that you don't have that same confidence in your relationship?"

Sometimes it really irked Brooke that Haley James Scott managed to be right about nearly everything, especially when it came to Brooke's life and her relationships. "I hear you, tutor mom," she said through her teeth.

Haley threw up her hands in exasperation. "_But_…?" she asked pointedly.

"But he's my husband. It's my decision."

"You're _not_ hearing me, then. That's my point. This isn't about your marriage, Brooke. Your marriage is safe."

"The safety of my marriage is mine to judge," she argued stubbornly. "And I'll talk to Luke once I talk to Peyton."

"God, Brooke…she's going through a lot right now. You can't just pick a fight with her."

"My prerogative," Brooke countered childishly.

"Okay. Fine. I'm done. But if you don't tell Lucas when he gets back, I will," she said, pointing her finger directly in Brooke's face.

"Hey!" Brooke cried, pulling away from Haley's threatening index finger. "_Please_, Haley…let me make the choices here, okay?"

Haley moved her hand, reaching out lovingly instead of angrily as she placed her hand lightly onto Brooke's shoulder. "Can you be honest with me?"

"Yeah," Brooke whispered, awaiting her question.

"Are you and Lucas having problems?"

Fear clutched at Brooke's heart. "Did he say something?"

"_No_!" Haley cried. "No, no. Honey, I didn't mean to scare you, it's just that you seem a little…"

"Don't back off now," she challenged.

"Insecure," Haley sighed.

She set her lips in a straight line, upset that Haley had called her on it. "I'm just being stupid, okay? I love Luke, and I know that he loves me. I, um…I was actually going to save this for another time, but…"

"What?" Haley asked, sensing that it was juicy news.

"We're actually going to try for another baby," Brooke admitted excitedly, a grin lighting up her face.

"That's amazing," Haley told her earnestly. "Are you hoping…for a boy?"

"Actually…" Brooke stuck out her tongue for a second, still smiling widely. "I want another girl."

Her friend's entire face lit up. "Oh! Good! Now we can hope together. I understand that Luke might want a son, but we need another little girl around. Besides, my boys are as good as your kids. You guys can take them off our hands _whenever _you want," she joked, and they laughed contentedly together.

"Yeah…it's just that, especially with my parents so absent from my life, I always wanted a sister. We'll always be in here life, but I want that for Mira, too. I want her to experience that relationship, you know? Like what I had with…"

"Peyton," Haley filled in quietly, seriously. She pushed a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "I swear to god…this is the most surreal evening I've had in years."

Brooke cracked a speculative smile. "Try ever."

* * *

Peyton shook her head slightly, drops of water flying from her curly blonde stands of hair. It had started to rain just before she and Chris reached Tric, and they'd had to run the last block. Even then, they were both soaked. "Thanks for walking me home," she said with an awkward laugh. Her jeans were drenched and her silky shirt was glued to her skin, clinging to her curves. She didn't feel like she belonged in the moment. It felt like a scene from a movie, or at the very least, an instance in the saga of Naley. And yet, there she was, soaking wet, her eyes searching Chris Keller's for a clue as to where they were supposed to go next.

"Yeah, no problem," he shrugged nonchalantly, wringing the water out of his shirt. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, looking down at the floor as a blush rose to her cheeks. She wasn't good at handling herself after someone saw her at her most vulnerable. She shivered, suddenly aware of the chilly air in the open space as the rain violently assaulted the windows.

Chris reached out as if on instinct, rubbing her bare arms to bring some warmth to her body. She bit down on her lower lip shyly, stealing glances at his face. As he touched her, there was something vulnerable in his own appearance that made her melt just a little bit. She never would have guessed that there was a sweet guy buried under Chris' self-absorption. Before she could even think, her feet carried her a couple steps, steering her forward and closer to him. Her whole body felt a lot warmer as she just looked at him, confused in the strangest way. The unexpectedness of the situation brought her the slightest amount of peace.

She just _looked_ at him, eyes flying, trying to take in every single emotion she could detect in his face, as slowly, his hands moved. They moved from her forearms, where they'd rested, up to her elbows, brushing softly against the swell of her breasts as they edged further upward. His hands floated across her shoulders toward her neck, his thumbs brushing gently against her collarbone as his palms crept up her neck, until at last, he was cupping her face in his steady hands, looking seriously into her waiting green eyes.

Her breaths grew shallower when their eyes locked and his thumbs brushed over the tender skin under her tired eyes. The last protesting part of her faded with the concern in that gesture. She lifted her own arms and rested her hands on his, her slender fingers wrapping lightly around his wrists.

"Peyton," he said, his voice a breathy, passionate whisper.

And then he kissed her.

* * *

"Hey, kiddo," Haley cooed as she slipped into Jenny's room, closing the door behind her to guarantee their privacy. "I brought you hot chocolate."

Jenny smiled weakly. "With marshmallows," she noted, accepting the warm cup gratefully.

"Of course. They're the best part," Haley said with her best smile.

"Thank you for…everything," Jenny said softly, hesitantly.

Haley reached out to tip up her chin so that they were eye to eye. "I'm your aunt, Jenny. It's what I'm here for."

She blushed but nodded.

Haley rubbed the younger girl's calf, which ensconced in a pair of dancing-panda-bear flannel pyjama pants. "You wanna talk? I'm a pretty good listener."

Jenny shrugged. "I don't really have that much to say. I feel kind of stupid. Blowing up at my mom like I did."

"You were hurt," Haley said simply, also shrugging. "It's okay. Peyton understands, she's not exactly a stranger to teenage angst."

Jenny stared down into her hot chocolate contemplatively. "Is…is it true, the things…Peyton said, about my real mom?"

Haley crossed her legs, settling in comfortably atop the bed. "Well, baby girl, what'd she say?" she asked gently.

"That she…abandoned me. Didn't want anything to do with me…used me as _pawn_ when she was playing with my dad's emotions and stuff. She said it with such…I don't know, certainty." Her eyes were pained when she locked them with Haley's sympathetic orbs. "It's true, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. But you know what, Jenny? That never mattered, because you had so many other people that loved you. Jake alone loved you enough to make up for Nicki's leaving. And Peyton…"

"Nathan said that she fell in love with my dad when she dealing with someone else, or something," Jenny interrupted. "What does that mean?"

Haley winced at the reference to Lucas. "She was getting out of another relationship, a very complicated one, but…she threw herself into that relationship fully, put her whole heart into it. She'd never done that before, so when things got really tricky and started to fall apart, it was really hard on her. She wasn't used to letting people in, and she thought it was a mistake.

"But then she met your dad…and you, and in the two of you she found what she was…truly looking for." She sighed. "Peyton lacked a family in the time she probably could have used it most, and you and Jake were like the family she'd always wanted, and she fit in more perfectly than she ever could have hoped. She loves you, Jenny. She would have given her life for you, and I know that she still would. She made sacrifices in friendship and relationships for you. Jake gave her everything she'd always needed, and he made her strong, but she was willing to let that go for you. Twice."

Jenny gulped down a sip of the hot beverage she held. "That's a lot of love," she whispered.

Haley unfolded her legs, standing to go, knowing that Jenny could probably stand to sleep for quite a while. She gave Jenny's leg another pat. "You're worth it, chickadee."

* * *

Since Jake had left her life, Peyton made pretty much mastered the whole meaningless sex thing. It worked better when you were drunk, but alcohol wasn't necessary if you were already bummed about something or particularly horny.

She'd become very good at being mysterious. Her eyes, haunted by painful memories, gave her a perfect start. Enthrallingly curled hair, charming smiles, and coy introductions with no last names. She knew exactly how to get a guy for one night only. She was always careful – STDs weren't something she'd ever risk, particularly because Jenny depended on both her money and wellbeing, and she took every possible step to prevent pregnancy because it would be hard, hurtful both physically and emotionally, and it would bond her to the guy for life, something she most certainly didn't want. She knew how to slip out from under a heavy, muscled arm moments after the guy fell asleep and dress quickly and quietly before slipping away. Jenny teased her about never dating, never bringing guys home, but she felt that they were safer that way.

Peyton knew, deep in her heart, as Chris backed her into the wall of Tric, that it needed to end _right away_. She knew that, but it didn't stop her from hooking her thumbs through his belt loops and pulling him to her so that their hips matched, it didn't stop her from letting go so that he could gently pull her shirt over her head, and it didn't stop her from letting his tongue delve deeply into her mouth. When his lips left hers, she went to speak, but he then attacked a particularly sensitive point on her neck and her protest turned to a gasp, a pleased mewl escaping her lips as her eyes fluttered closed. Desperate to get her bearings, she murmured, "Chris…" but it was much more of a plea than any sort of firm statement.

It was hot, she couldn't deny that. Sex in an empty bar with a rock star. Her body ached for the release and denying it was becoming wickedly difficult.

When his eyes found hers just before his lips sought hers out again, and through her heady gaze she discovered the intensity of his orbs, her resolve weakened _almost_ to the point of no return. It truly got there when he whispered, "God, Peyton, you are…" and trailed off as if he could find no words to describe her beauty or how she made him feel.

A tear slipped down her cheek when his fingers expertly undid the single button on her hip-hugging jeans, his fingers grazing private, sensitive skin. It was like Lucas used to say to her when their making out got particularly intimate. He would pause in the intensity of the moment, his breathing heavy with lust. It was so romantic and sincere that her heart would flip over and she'd think that she could love this boy forever.

_God, Peyton, you are…I feel more for you than there are words._

**A/N: **I love reviews more than there are words. :)


	11. Heldentenor

**A/N: **Sorry about the wait, everyone! Thanks so much as always for your wonderful reviews. This chapter was a hard one to write because I had a lot of difficulty writing a scenario in which Chris Keller and Peyton wake up together. Just picture it in your head: what the _hell_ would they _say_? I tried a lot of different options, but in the end I managed to avoid the whole scenario. Also: an intelligent reviewer pointed out a continuity error: everything up until the season three finale goes in this story, but I mentioned Psycho Derek in the second chapter. That was a mistake. He never happed. Sorry about that. This chapter's a little shorter than normal, but I promise lots of length in the next one. Read and review, please.

Heldentenor: a heroic quality of voice that fits rare, specific pieces of music. It is often an surprise within the melody.

"Good morning, rock star!" Haley chirped as she flung Jenny's curtains open, welcoming the sun into the room.

"Morning…bad," Jenny protested weakly, pulling a pillow over her head.

Haley snatched the pillow away and danced over the other side of the room, placing Jenny's iPod into its dock and accessing her list of artists. She turned Jack's Mannequin up nice and loud. "Up and at 'em, sweetie, we've got places to go, songs to write, people to see, girls to make into superstars!" she chirped as she headed for the door, calling over her shoulder, "If I don't see you in ten minutes, I'll tell the twins they can steamroller you!"

"Steamroller?" Jenny asked blearily, sitting up and placing a hand atop her head to assess how bad her bedhead was.

Haley poked her head back in. "Yeah, you know. When you lie down next to someone and the roll of top of them, back and forth, over and over."

"Awesome," Jenny noted sarcastically, flopping back down.

Haley grinned back, unfazed. "Nine minutes and counting!"

Nathan was waiting outside the door of Jenny's room with two cups of coffee. He held hers out to her and she awarded him with an impressed smile and a luxurious kiss. "Hey, you," she said as she pulled back.

He grinned back at her, nodding toward the doorway. "How's she doing?"

"She's gonna be fine," Haley said confidently, slipping her hand into his as they meandered down the hallway together. "We're all going to be fine."

"Can we talk? Please?"

Peyton groaned and tugged the hem of her shirt down as she turned around to face him, uncomfortable with the thought of him seeing any extra skin. "There's nothing to talk about."

Chris looked at her incredulously. "Peyton, we had sex."

"Please don't remind me." She was exhausted. Her eyes were heavy and her entire head throbbed with a brutal headache that she couldn't shake, no matter how many painkillers she swallowed. She was a wreck, but was fighting hard to keep from breaking. She wanted Jenny to forgive her, and she wanted Chris to forget her.

"Listen," he said softly, almost contritely. "I…"

"Chris…" Peyton shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "It was sex. That was all." She was shocked by the sadness she saw in his eyes, and immediately added, "Oh, Chris, you couldn't have thought it was more."

"To me it was."

"Oh, God, I can't cope with this right now," she murmured, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyelids.

"I want to be with you," Chris said quietly.

She stopped breathing momentarily. "Tell me you didn't just say that," she finally got out.

"Look, Peyton," he said, taking a step toward her. "I know it seems ridiculous, considering that our history consists of an argument about a performance and a rather painful bitch-slap but…I like you."

Tears gathered in her eyes and she blinked harshly to keep them at bay. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But you and I…we can't be anything."

He contemplated her words for a moment. "Because of Jake?"

"Leave him the hell out of this." She didn't explain the sudden burst of anger that followed his questions – the flash of threatening fury in her eyes was enough to make him back down, she knew that for a fact.

"Because of Lucas," he reasoned, his lips twisting into a knowing, bitter smile.

"So help me God, wipe that wise-ass smirk off your face before I do it for you," she all but growled. "Chris, I'm _sorry_, but I never thought…You were good to me last night. You worried for Jenny with me, and you helped me forget, and it was wonderful, it was. But I can't be with you."

He nodded, frowning. "Of course you can't."

"Chris," she said sadly, her tears pushing hard against her lower eyelids.

"No," he shrugged. "I was stupid. Haley warned me."

Peyton frowned, too. "What?" she whispered.

"Nothing. Never mind."

"You and Haley talked about me?" she asked, appalled, lifting her eyebrows.

"It's nothing. I should have known." He gave her a scornful look that made her look down, an ashamed blush colouring her cheeks. "You should never fall in love with the girl who gave her heart away years ago."

"Hey! I _didn't_!" she insisted uselessly. She liked to think that her heart was hers, protected and controlled, but it was the biggest lie she'd ever told herself.

"You could never fall in love with me," he stated simply.

Her heart jumped to her throat and she leaned across Tric's bar's counter, locking her eyes with his. Chris Keller sadly stating that she'd never give him her heart. Definitely something high on the list of things she _never,_ not a _million_ years saw happening, but there she was. "Chris, I really am sorry. I just… I was emotional, and I needed someone, and I appreciate that you were there. I needed to feel that, and I just thought that you did, too. But I didn't plan on having it…go…" she trailed off helplessly, her green orbs pleading with his cold eyes.

"Are you saying I took advantage of you?" he asked, glaring.

"No! No, I'm not. I'm saying that I didn't…think that…you…you were looking…for love," she said softly. "That's just not the Chris Keller I knew."

He leaned across the bar too, so close that their noses almost touched. "I have a newsflash for you, P. Sawyer. People change in twelve years. They grow up and they move on. They get married," he added pointedly, and she knew that he was intentionally hitting her where it hurt. "And they _forget_ about the girls they _thought_ they loved when they were _kids_."

A couple tears finally glided down her cheeks, but she didn't break eye contact. "I never would have slept with you had I known. Ignorance is no excuse…but it's all I've got. I was an idiot of _the _highest order. It's not fair to you, what I did. I just thought our thoughts were on the same wavelength. I'm sorry that I never would have thought that you'd be looking for a serious relationship."

"And I never would have thought you'd be looking for a good lay."

Peyton pulled back, away from him, and her walls flew up around her – too late, however, as she'd already been wounded. "Fuck you," she bit out, giving him her fiercest stare.

"But you already have, haven't you? And that's all you'll ever do. Chris Keller is out of here."

"Hey, Pretty Girl," Lucas greeted Brooke warmly, huskily, as he blinked his eyes opened. She climbed into bed next to him, still in her clothes from the previous day.

"Hey back," she said simply, gazing at him as she laid her head down on her pillow.

He reached out, letting his fingertips graze her cheek. She looked upset about something. "How was your sleepover?"

"Fine," she said, mustering up a small smile.

"What's going on with Haley and Nathan? You were very cryptic on the phone."

She smiled sweetly, reassuringly. "Nothing bad at all, I promise. It wasn't the two of them," she then added, "It was just Haley. Girl stuff. Everything's fine now."

Lucas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You'd tell me if she was pregnant, right?"

Brooke rolled her eyes. "She's not pregnant, you idiot."

"Okay…" he said sceptically, sitting up and propping another pillow under his head. "You realize I have reason to doubt you, right?"

"What? No."

"Yes," he laughed. "_Every single time_, Haley told you she was pregnant before anyone else. And then she'd tell my Mom, and then Deb, and then that girl she works with…"

"Lila," Brooke supplied.

"Yeah, Lila. Nathan is going to _flip_ if he's not at least the second person to know this time, and if I have reason to believe she's pregnant and I don't let him know, he'll kick my ass."

"Are you done now?"

"I'm serious." He was. Nathan would kill him. He hated being left out of the loop when it came to his own children.

"Yeah, sure. Okay, remember when Sebastian was born? Haley went on a huge tirade about how he was her _last baby_. She's not pregnant, I promise."

"So then what's going on?" he demanded. It wasn't like Brooke to keep secrets – she liked to share juicy news.

"Girl stuff," she repeated forcefully, but he caught the uncertainty in her eyes, almost as though she was afraid.

"You're keeping something from me, babe."

She leaned in for a quick kiss. "Luke, I love you, and it's nothing serious. Let's just leave it, okay? Mira wants you to make her some pancakes, so get that hot ass out of bed."

"Okay, scratch that," Haley said firmly, leaning over her guitar as she firmly jotted a line through the messy notes she'd made. "Let's get it into a major key instead of a minor."

"But I like it in the key it's in," Jenny protested, making a disappointed face.

Haley chuckled. "Peyton's daughter much?" she murmured, more to herself than Jenny. How predictable that she'd enjoy the moodier, more depressing sound.

It was Jenny's uncomfortable, almost wounded, silence that let Haley in on what she'd just said. "Oh, honey…" she said apologetically, sitting back in her chair. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jenny said breezily, trying to brush it off.

"No, it's not, and I know that. Do you want to talk?"

Jenny set down her pen, too. "Haley…thank you for everything, and for the offer, but I…need to talk to my mom," she admitted softly.

Haley wished she could help her more, but she knew that she had to leave the rest up to the mother and daughter. "Yeah. Okay."

"Well, whenever you're ready," a soft, gently playful voice with an uncharacteristic raw quality to it said from the doorway.

A small smile touched Jenny's lips as she whispered, "Hi."

Haley turned to face Peyton. "You spy," she said with her own smile as Peyton walked over to them. She wrapped an arm around Peyton's waist from where she sat, resting her head against Peyton's hip for a moment as they hugged from separate levels. She looked up and studied her friend worriedly. Peyton looked brutally tired and on the verge of tears. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. I'm just…" she shrugged, "stupid. It's nothing." She took a deep breath and gave Haley another quick hug.

She must have been up all night worrying about her daughter, Haley figured, so she accepted Peyton's excuse. "Yeah. Okay."

Peyton barely seemed to register Haley's words, her eyes were fixed on her daughter, analyzing. "Come find me when you're ready, okay, babe?" she finally asked quietly, looking meaningfully at Jenny. She gestured to the building that housed Tric, CMC's summer recording studios, and her apartment. "I'm around."

Jenny nodded. "Okay," she said in the exact same tone.

"Okay." She cracked a tired smile. "I'll see you later…both of you," she added, extending her words to include Haley, who smiled gratefully back. She wanted to rekindle her friendship with Peyton badly, but she knew how the other girl was. She needed to do things on her own terms.

"So," Haley said, sitting upright again. "I think we can work with this in a minor key."

Jenny's grin was tentative and adorable, making her look younger than she actually was. "Yeah?" she asked happily.

"Hell yeah," she replied firmly, grinning back and rewriting the chords she'd just scratched out.

"Daddy?"

Lucas closed his laptop; Miranda was a welcome distraction. "Hey, baby girl," he said, pulling her into his lap and tickling her lightly. "What's going on with you today?"

"Will you play with me?" she asked, slipping her lower lip out. She pouted exactly as her mother did, and it always made Lucas' heart melt.

"Of _course_ I will, princess. What do you want to do?"

"Can we play tea party?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, Mira…" Lucas sighed, grimacing. He loved his daughter more than he could ever describe; he was meant for fatherhood, and he would do anything for his precious little girl. But sipping 'tea' out of a tiny cup with his littlest finger up in the air and wearing a princess hat took a toll on his ego, especially since Nathan had once walked in on a tea party. He'd practically collapsed with hysteria, but not before snapping several shots of Lucas in his purple, furry crown and several beaded necklaces. Lucas spent the next week and a half enduring his brother's random spurts of laughter while he grumbled about how Nathan didn't understand, he only had sons.

"Daddy!" Lucas sighed, thinking that he was going to have to give in, but mercifully, Miranda came up with a new idea. "Let's go to Auntie Haley's!"

"That's a good idea," Lucas agreed, relieved. "You can play with your cousins and I can talk to Uncle Nathan."

"Yay!" Mira cheered, hopping off his lap and rushing off.

"Where're you going, kiddo?" Lucas called after her.

She whirled around and stared at him. "To put my princess dress on. Nick and Noah can be the princes," she said, as though it were obvious. She turned back around and ran into her mother's legs.

"Hey, my little girl," Brooke crooned, scooping Mira up into her arms. "Where are you going in such a rush?" She gasped, a wicked gleam in her eyes as her lips curled into a happy smile. "Are you and Daddy gonna play tea party?"

"Uh-uh. We're gonna go to Auntie Haley's so that Nick and Noah can play castle with me."

Lucas grinned at Brooke, expecting to see a smile in return. Of course their daughter played 'castle' rather than 'house'.

Instead, an indefinable expression took over her face and she shook her head. "No, honey…you can't."

Lucas lifted his eyebrows as Miranda whined, "But Mom_my_! We were just there! I wanna go play."

Lucas chuckled, smiling at the five-year-old, but his laughter faded into a frown when his wife's expression didn't change. "Brooke, what…?"

"Mira, my sweet girl, why don't you call Kimmy and have her ask her mommy if you can go over there and play? I _know_ that Kimmy would _love_ to play princesses with you! Yeah?"

"Why can't I play with Noah and Nick?" Miranda whined.

"Because they're _boys_," Brooke told her playfully, tickling Miranda's tummy. "They wanna play with trucks and swords and silly boy things. Go call Kimmy, okay? If her mommy says yes, you bring the phone to me so we can talk. Do you know her number?"

"Seven eight five…seven nine two…three!" Miranda finished proudly.

"Smartypants!" Brooke cried enthusiastically, nuzzling her nose against her daughter's before setting her down. "Off you go, baby genius." She straightened up and met Lucas' eyes hesitantly.

He was confused and concerned, and it was frustrating him. "Brooke," he said, standing and walking over to her. He rested his hands lightly on her hips. "Please level with me. What is going on with Nathan and Haley?" She broke eye contact and he ducked his head to meet her gaze. "Hey. What is going on with _you_? Are you concerned about my meetings next week? Because, beautiful, I told you…Lindsay and I are just friends. You're the only girl for me, forever."

She rewarded him with a tender smile. "Please," she scoffed softly. "Like Brainy Babe could ever steal you away from me. Lindsay is _not_ who I'm worried about."

Lucas' frown deepened. "But you _are_ worried about someone. Did I say…or do something…?"

"No! It's not _you_…I just…it's Haley. But she's fine, I promise you. Everything's fine."

"Doesn't seem like it."

"It _is_. I just think we should give them their space and their peace today."

"Mommy!" called Miranda. "Come get the phone!"

Lucas shook his head as she flew from the room. Something _was_ wrong. He knew that he could talk to Haley and Nathan about it – that he should, to make sure everything was really alright. But he was behind on deadlines, Mira was a handful, and he was determined to trust his wife. He'd get it out of her eventually, and he was sure that they'd laugh about it someday. Their lives were good. They had money, even if Brooke and Miranda spent it like crazy. Dan was out of their lives; they were safe. They were just a little bit famous. They had the best friends in the world, and an absolutely perfect little girl.

They'd been through enough drama, Lucas was sure of it. There was nothing and no one left to disrupt the peace.

"Daddy!"

Lucas smiled indulgently, holding out his arms so that she could jump into them. "Sup, baby girl?"

Miranda happily settled in his arms. "Will you drive me to Kimmy's house? Mommy says she has to go back to work."

Lucas grinned. "I would love to," he replied.

"Hey, Keller," Haley greeted Chris happily as she strode into his office. Jenny and Peyton were talking, hopefully mending their broken relationship. Brooke knew that they were in town. It was out of Haley's hands. That wouldn't stop her from meddling – it was her nature to attempt to improve the lives of others by interfering. But at least she no longer had any responsibility.

Chris muttered something unintelligible without looking at her. His fingers splayed over the keys of the piano and sank down into a melancholy chord.

Haley was alarmed. Chris was never without a clever comeback or a lewd line. Even when he was genuine, Chris was chatty and charming. Haley had never seen him vulnerable. Chris opened up to her, but never looked as sad or as _meek_ as he did in that moment.

She dropped her binders and walked toward him cautiously. "Chris?" she asked softly, seating herself next to him on the piano bench. "Hey. Are you okay?"

His hands fell from the keys. They were shaking. He tried to play it off with his usual bravado: "Ask any girl, Haley James. She'll tell you that Chris Keller is better than _okay_." He still didn't meet her eyes.

Haley was so concerned that she didn't bother berating him, as she normally would have, for leaving out the 'Scott'. "Nice try. Chris, please…talk to me."

He looked over at her mournfully, and she spotted a tear or two gleaming in his eyes.

"Chris!" she gasped, placing a supportive hand on his back. "What's going on?"

He shrugged sadly and she rubbed his back comfortingly, patiently waiting for him to speak.

"I…I didn't listen to you. I was an idiot."

"No," she rushed to assure him. "No, you weren't. I'm sure of it. What do you mean, you didn't listen to me?"

He blinked rapidly to keep his tears at bay. "I slept with Peyton."

**A/N: **I know, I know…still no Lucas/Peyton interaction. I'm sorry, but there are things that _need_ to happen first. I did write a fluffy little oneshot a while back in hopes of giving you guys _something_. Stick with me.

How about this? I'll give you my thoughts on the season premiere: _Peyton Sawyer will become Peyton Scott_. **Finally!** Every L/P scene made that episode. I _loved_ the looks on Brooke and Haley's faces when they realized that they were together, and that glimpse of their future just looks so perfect. Psycho Nanny Carrie…waving a fork at Dan's eyes grossed me out. Jamie is the cutest thing in the world, his dancing with both Q and with Haley made me smile. The whole episode made me smile, with the exception of the ending.

Alright, I've given you my thoughts…now press that little purple button and give me yours in a review! :)


	12. Atonal

**A/N**: Reviews make me so happy. You have no idea.

So, here's the deal: I was planning on having Lucas and Peyton finally meet in chapter twenty, but I feel like I'm losing some of you, which makes sense. A Leyton fic with eleven chapters of them leading their separate lives is a bit much. So, okay. I've made some changes and made my chapters longer so that I can fit all the detail I need into them…and I can now promise you L/P interaction by chapter fifteen. Keep sending me those awesome reviews, and you've got it. These next few chapters _need_ to happen, they are essential for Haley/Peyton/Brooke interaction they contain. I hope you like them all, even if you have to wait just a _couple chapters_ longer for L/P. This one isn't my fave, but the next one's a big one. Anyway, read away…

Atonal: Music which is atonal is without tonality; it has so specific key or repeating chords. Simply, it is music without a "home" note.

"He did _what_?" Nathan demanded disbelievingly.

"He _slept_ with _Peyton_," Haley repeated, pacing the floor of their bedroom. Jenny was still with Peyton, Nick and Noah had a play date, Jamie was shooting hoops outside, and Sebastian was crawling around, oblivious to his parents' worry.

"Well…okay. That's…crazy."

"_Yes_!"

"But…I mean, it didn't mean anything, right? Chris is a man whore. And Peyton was upset," he added uneasily. He wondered if Peyton was still seriously angry with him. Probably. Peyton didn't let go of things all that quickly. He remembered a day when he could do away with her anger and annoyance with some sweet talk and extra-romantic sex. Now everything was much more difficult. He wasn't a teenager, he wasn't her boyfriend, and the issue was much bigger than his constant disappearance to go hang with his basketball buddies.

Haley sat down next to him. Her eyes were troubled. "Nathan, you don't understand."

Nathan smiled slightly and took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Hales. I know you don't approve, but there's nothing we can do about it. It's done. It was just meaningless sex."

Wisps of hair escaped Haley's ponytail as she shook her head, and Nathan took a moment to appreciate his wife, her beauty and her inherent kindness. "Nathan, he _likes_ her."

"You're kidding me," he said flatly, but he knew she wasn't. He really, _really_ did not like Chris Keller.

"I know it seems insane, but he really does."

"But…what…does Peyton…"

Haley shrugged. "She thought what you thought. Meaningless sex. I guess they fought, and Chris…he's _really_ broken up about it."

Nathan shook his head and cupped the back of his neck with a hand. "Didn't see that one coming."

"Do you think…maybe you could talk to him?" Haley chirped hopefully.

"Haley," he groaned.

"Please, babe? I think he needs some guy talk."

"Chris and I don't like each other!"

"Well, honey, I'm not asking you to date him. I'm asking you to talk to him."

Nathan sighed and pulled her into a warm hug, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "The things I do for you, Haley James Scott."

* * *

"Mom?" Jenny poked her head into the room, looking young and innocent with her wide blue eyes.

Peyton sat up in bed, wiped her eyes, and turned off the TV, on which she'd been watching _Love Actually_.

Jenny ventured further into the room, which was lit dimly, solely by candles. "Are you okay?" she inquired.

"Yeah," Peyton assured her softly. She held open the blanket she'd been huddled under. "Come sit with me, sweets."

Jenny obliged, crawling onto the big bed and settling in Peyton's arms. Peyton sighed, resting her cheek against Jenny's head.

"You don't have sheets," Jenny noted, her hand sliding against the bare mattress beneath them.

"Um…yeah." _I had sex with Chris Keller._ "I decided to do laundry."

Jenny frowned. "We just got here, like, a day ago."

"Yeah…" Peyton laughed weakly, nervously. "Well, you know…you can never be too clean."

"Are you _sure_ everything's okay, Mom?"

Peyton smiled, pleased with her daughter's words and relieved for the opportunity to change the subject. "You're calling me Mom again?"

She shrugged embarrassedly. "You are my mom."

Peyton melted, stroking Jenny's hair softly. "I am," she agreed.

"Mom?" Jenny asked after a moment of comfortable silence.

"Yeah, angel?"

"Tell me what you meant when you said you knew what it was like."

Peyton understood immediately. "My mom died when I was a little girl. You knew that." She felt Jenny nod and continued, "Okay. Well, when I was sixteen this showed up…Ellie." Peyton knew that she still spoke her birth mother's name with the muted affection she reserved for those she loved most. "It turns out…that I was adopted. Ellie was my real mom. It was hard for me to let her in. I felt betrayed, and I was scared…I didn't want to be disloyal to anyone, and it was all just so difficult. Jenny Lynn…I never wanted you to feel that way."

Jenny nodded again.

"Ellie and I…we reached peace, and we made an album together to benefit breast cancer research. Ellie had cancer," she added. "She died a month after we met."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Jenny said softly.

"Oh, honey, it's okay. I mean, I still miss her. And it scared the hell out of me, the thought of losing another mom…but I wouldn't give those four weeks with Ellie back for the world. Sweetie…" Peyton sighed. She knew that Jake had completely given up on Nicki, and that he all but hated her, that the last thing he would want was to have her back in his little girl's life. But Jenny was Peyton's responsibility now, and she wanted to do what was best for her child, even if she really hated the idea.

"Listen, babe," she began again. "I know that your situation is different than mine was, but…" She swallowed thickly. "If you really…if you wanted to find Nicki…"

Jenny twisted around to look at her. "No, Mom. It's okay…she doesn't really want to be found anyway, does she?"

Peyton offered her a weak smile. Jenny's deep, honest gaze got her every time. They may have been a different colour, but Jenny's eyes were Jake's eyes, and that was something she'd always find endearing. "No, honey, she doesn't."

"Yeah," Jenny agreed. She shrugged. "You're everything I need."

Peyton smiled, her eyes flooding as she studied her daughter.

Jenny squirmed under her gaze. "Why're you looking at me like that?" She grinned hesitantly. "Was that too much of a corny line?"

"Nah," Peyton said, gathering Jenny into another hug. She kissed Jenny's temple. She was grown up and beautiful, intelligent and talented, sweet and truthful. Everything Peyton had ever wanted her to be. "I'm looking at you like that 'cause you're awesome."

Her daughter sighed. "I love you, Mom."

Peyton blinked furiously. "You, too," she whispered. "And I'm sorry."

"I know," Jenny said gently, and let her words sink in. Then she giggled. "Hey. So…not only is Grandpa Larry not _my_ grandfather, he's not technically _your_ dad."

"True," Peyton laughed lightly. "I never thought of that."

Jenny's giggles faded and she sighed again. "There's so much I don't know," she mused. "Mom…can you just tell me everything? Please?"

"Jenny," Peyton sighed, releasing her hold on her daughter as they both sat up. She didn't want to get into it.

"Seriously. Please. Just stop keeping things from me."

"My past is just a bunch of crap that you don't need to know. It doesn't matter."

"It clearly does. Don't lie to me."

Peyton rubbed her eyes. She was already tired. She'd already cried. She wanted to go back to the peaceful atmosphere of a mere minute ago. "Listen, Jen…"

"No. Let's just _talk_, okay?" Jenny faced her, sitting crossed-legged. "We'll start with the obvious stuff. Like, why have you never said a word about anyone in this town before? Why did we never come back? Why haven't you spoken to Haley in years?"

Peyton lifted her eyebrows. "So many questions," she commented evasively.

"Mom!"

"Honey –"

"_Tell_ me something! I'm sick of your hiding! What the hell is the point, Mom? What could your history possibly entail? I don't care! I just hate that I don't know!"

Peyton couldn't believe that this was happening again, _just_ after they'd made up. "Let's not do this again," she begged.

"Like hell! You owe me a goddamn explanation!"

"Hey!" Peyton snapped. "I'm your mother; do _not_ talk to me like that!" She took a deep breath and lectured herself to calm down. This was what she did not want. "Jenny, baby, please…we never used to fight like this."

Jenny stood up, backing away. "Yeah, we didn't, and that's why! You babied me! You treated me like a stupid little kid! You don't even know me! No surprise; you're not my mother."

Peyton gaped at her. Had she imagined their previous conversation? "Jenny," she said firmly. "Stop and breathe. Let's talk about this rationally."

"So you can feed me more lies? Bull!" She stalked away and whirled around when she reached the door, fixing Peyton with hurt, fiery eyes. "I was wrong," she declared roughly, "when I said you were everything I needed. You're nothing," she said bitterly, and ran out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

Peyton slumped on the bed. The fight had gone out of her. Coming back to Tree Hill had ruined the one relationship she'd fully invested herself in.

And she hated herself for it. She hated herself for being a bad mother, for letting Jake down in the most important way. She hated herself for missing the births of Nathan and Haley's children. For misreading Chris' intentions and causing him pain. For losing the girl she'd once been. She hated that she'd forgotten to live a life in which if her art was good enough and her love was great enough, nothing else mattered.

Her candles burned down to the ends of their wicks. She curled up on her bare mattress, plunked her head on her softest pillow, and cried.

She hated herself for how pathetic she was, but she'd lost the will to care.

* * *

Nathan rapped on the door of Chris' office, sighing to himself. "Chris?"

Chris peered up at him from behind a big music book and a massive cup of coffee. He snorted disdainfully. "Haley send you over?"

To contradict him would have been to tell a completely obvious lie, so Nathan settled for the truth, admitting, "Yeah."

"Well, you can go. I'm fine. She's worrying for no reason." He cleared his throat. "It was a one-night stand; it's no big deal. I'm not dying of anything. Nothing meant anything. Go check on Peyton if you guys are so concerned. She's the one who can never get herself together."

"Sounds to me," Nathan began as he took a couple steps into the room, "like it did mean something to you."

"And why would you say that? Enlighten me."

"Because you're rambling. Because it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself. Because you're insulting Peyton because she hurt you first."

"Nate…"

"You are hurt. That's okay. That sucks. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. And I know…Peyton is, too."

Chris sighed, something that sounded both mournful and sarcastic. "You dated Peyton once, right, Nathan?"

"Yeah. You knew that." He didn't understand where the musician was going with this.

"Why'd you break up?"

"We broke up all the time," he said, waving aside Chris' words.

"For good. Why'd you break up _for good_?"

Nathan shrugged. "Because I was a jackass. I didn't know how to love her."

"And…because of Lucas, right? Because he got involved. He entered your world and set his eyes on your girl, and she couldn't resist him, because that's just the way it is. Lucas and Peyton. And that's never going to change. You and me, we're both idiots here, because we thought it was something that _could_ change. It can't. It won't."

"No, it _has_ changed. That was high school, Chris. Yeah, they had their really intense connection, but it's over. It's done. Lucas picked Brooke. Peyton picked Jake."

"Did they really or did it just turn out that way?" Chris shook his head. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, Nate. I appreciate you stopping by." He propped his book up on the table, hiding his face.

"Sure…" Nathan muttered as he backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He felt uneasy. He reasoned that Chris was just making things up because he was hurt. Luke had a life. Peyton needed to work hers out. They were the epitome of all things over.

It had been years

Things stopped. Love stopped.

It ended.

An annoying, worrying little voice in the back of his head reminded him that it had been years since he'd first met Haley, and through all their drama, he'd never quit loving her.

* * *

Haley sat on the couch, wearing an affectionate smile as she watched her twins happily entertain their baby brother. She ruffled Noah's hair, and was reaching for a magazine when she heard the door open. "Nathan?" she called, curious as to how his talk with Chris had gone.

Jenny stepped into the room hesitantly, sniffling. "No. It's me."

"Hey, honey," she replied, standing up. "What's wrong? Did something happen with Peyton?"

Jenny's face crumpled and Haley nodded. There was no shortage of drama in her world, that was for sure.

"Okay," she said softly. "Nicky, Noah…you guys call me if you need me, okay? Jenny and I are just going to go talk." She placed her hand lightly on Jenny's elbow and guided her into what was Jenny's room for the summer. She sat both of them down on the bed. "What's going on, sweetie? I thought you two were on your way to reconciliation."

"We _did_ make up. For like two seconds, before we started fighting again."

"Aw, Jenny." Haley reached out to tuck Jenny's hair behind her ear. She felt so attached to this teenager, so protective of her. She knew it was probably because the last time she'd seen Jenny she'd been a baby, and because she regarded Jenny as a miraculous connection to both Peyton and Jake. But Jenny needed her so much that she also felt like the daughter Haley'd never had, the daughter she'd always wanted. "Talk to me, girlie."

Jenny crossed her arms. "She just…it makes me so _mad_." She shook her head and let her hair fall into her face. "She just kept me in the dark and assumed that I'd never know. All these years, my whole life, it was always _I love you no matter what, Jenny. I just want for us to be able to talk about everything._"

"Oh, Jenny…she _does_ love you no matter what."

"And I love her no matter what _back_!" Jenny cried, hitting the bed with her fist. "Why can't she understand that? I just want her to be _honest_ with me!" Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

"I know, honey," Haley said soothingly. "But all mothers keep things from their children. You have to trust your mom."

"But she's _not_ my mom," Jenny sobbed, and Haley's throat constricted as she helplessly watched the girl she'd come to adore so quickly break down. "She's not, and that means something. She regrets it. She regrets it all."

Haley's brow furrowed. "No," she murmured, gently pushing Jenny's hair out of her face. "What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself: she gave everything up, over and over. For me and my dad. She regrets it."

"No!" Haley said firmly. "Peyton loves you _so_ much. She loved you enough to do that."

Jenny shook her head stubbornly. "No. Not as much as whatever the hell she left behind. Ever since we've come here, she's been a mess, and we can't get through it because she won't tell me the _truth_. And the truth is that she hates me for it, for keeping her from what she _could_ have had."

"Jenny, no!" Haley cried, desperate to make Jenny understand what she herself knew so little about. "_You_ are what she wanted, and what she wants. You're her life."

"Yeah," Jenny wept, hiccupping. "And she hates me for it. It's obvious." She took several painfully shaky breaths. When Haley reached out to hold her, she recoiled, clutching a pillow instead. "I'd like to be alone, please," she requested in a scarily detached voice.

"Sweetheart," Haley tried, but it was useless. No matter what Jenny claimed, she was Peyton's daughter through and through. They both had the same ability to shut people out in an instant.

"Haley, I know you're trying to help, and…thank you, but…I am so sick of being lied to." She flopped down on the bed, curling away from Haley.

Haley opened and closed her mouth a few times, searching for the right thing to say. She heard the front door slam.

"Hales! I'm home!"

A sudden fire was lit within her. "Nathan?" she called back. "Watch the kids! I'm going out!"

* * *

Jenny laid on her bed, hugging the pillow she'd brought with her from home. It smelled like the apartment in Los Angeles that she'd called home for most of her life.

She was homesick. Not necessarily for the city, but for the life she'd left behind. She missed the comfortable normality.

She missed her _mom_. Peyton was with her, but their relationship had changed so much that Jenny felt scared and alone. She needed her mother, but she felt like Peyton was lost to her.

It was that acute sense of loss, almost like mourning, that had turned Jenny into a blubbering mess.

She didn't cry often. She was the kind of person who allowed things to build up, so that when something finally caused her to crack, she ended up sobbing about every single thing that had caused her pain.

Jenny tried to calm down, tried to take a deep breath, but her nose and throat were both clogged. She stumbled to her feet and grabbed a handful of tissues. When she could inhale again, she rummaged through her belongings, grabbing her purple monkey and an old photograph.

She'd had the monkey since she was born. The photograph she'd stumbled across when she was eight.

Peyton didn't know that she had it. Jenny had found it in a pile of her mother's CDs and kept it. She used to keep it under her pillow and look at it before she fell asleep.

It had always seemed like such a fairytale to her when she looked at the picture of her parents cuddled together on an old couch, so young and so in love. Now it no longer looked like such simple happiness, but something more mysterious.

"Who were you?" she whispered aloud to the teenagers in the photo, wiping at her eyes. They were so young, but they already had a small family that they were dedicated to. Peyton, giggling and gorgeous; Jake, handsome and happy…they looked like they could lose themselves in their love forever.

"Who were you?" Jenny repeated thoughtfully. "And who did you want to be? Was your fairytale with each other, with me? Or…" She found it hard to catch her breath again. "Or did I keep you from your dreams?"

* * *

Nathan paced the hallways of his large house restlessly. The kids were happily and safely playing, so he was left with his own worries.

Chris was a wreck. Nathan wanted to check on Peyton; he felt like he'd been neglecting her a bit. But he was stuck at home, since Haley had taken off, providing him with zero explanation.

He paced past Jenny's room and heard her weeping. He felt incredibly sympathetic toward the miserable teenager he'd last seen as a sweet little baby. He knocked softly on her door. "Jenny? Kiddo? Do you want to talk?"

"No, thank you," came the muffled reply.

Nathan sighed, wishing he knew some way to help her. "I'm here if you change your mind," he told the door.

He heard the front door open and slam closed. There'd been a lot more traffic in their home lately.

"Hales?" he called hopefully.

"Nathan Royal Scott!" called a voice that was most definitely not his wife's. He wasn't entirely happy to hear it, but at least it wasn't his mother or his grandparents, the only other people who'd ever address him by all three names.

"Auntie Brooke!" he heard the twin cry joyfully.

"Hey, you adorable angels! And Sebastian, you gorgeous guy!"

When Nathan walked into the room, he saw Brooke holding Sebastian as Nick and Noah gazed adoringly up at her. "Brooke Penelope Davis-Scott," Nathan returned tiredly. "What can I do for you?"

"What _can't_ you do for me?" she replied with a quirk of her brow.

He just looked at her. He wasn't in the mood for humour.

"Okay," Brooke said softly, balancing Sebastian on her hip. "I need to see Peyton."

He winced and shot the twins a weak smile. "Go play, guys. Grown-up talk."

"Bye-bye, Auntie Brooke!" they called in unison, running off to their room.

"Look, Brooke," Nathan said simply. "It's really not a good time. I know this is surprising, and I know you're freaked out, but there's a lot going on…"

She lifted her chin and assumed as defensive a position as one could assume while cradling a two-year-old. "Why don't you go ahead and fill me in, then."

"Brooke –"

"I know, okay? I _know_ that this is hard and awkward for everybody, but…Peyton was my best friend. Practically my sister. No matter what happened in the past…we need to talk about _now_."

Her words reminded Nathan of yet another unsolved mystery. "What _did_ happen?" he inquired.

Brooke glared at him. Through clenched teeth, she said: "Where _is_ she?"

He wasn't up for confrontation, not after the day he'd had. "The apartment above Tric," he informed her reluctantly.

"_Thank_ you." She turned to Sebastian, kissing his nose. "I'll see you, baby boy, yes I will. Auntie Brooke loves you lots." She gently handed the baby to Nathan and strode out of the house purposefully.

* * *

Haley opened the unlocked door to Peyton's apartment – she'd automatically assumed that the door would be unlocked, and it most certainly was; some thing really did never change. She stormed into the bedroom, flinging open that door, too. Peyton was sleeping restlessly on a bare mattress, her cheeks stained with tears.

"You are so _selfish_," Haley declared hotly, flicking on the overhead light and planting her hands on her hips.

Peyton sat up, blinking. "Excuse me?" she asked in a vulnerable, sleepy voice.

"Do you even _care_ about what your behavior is doing to your daughter?" she demanded.

"Haley – what – _of course I do_!"

"It's killing her! And _you_, you don't care, you're off having _sex_ with Chris! And you _devastated _him! Do you even know what you've done? He really and truly _likes_ you, and you don't care. Neither Chris nor Jenny deserve any of what you've done."

"Haley…" Peyton murmured confusedly, her eyes a deep, wounded green.

"You can't just go around sleeping with people," Haley forged on, "without considering their feelings! This is just a _tad_ reminiscent of you and Luke sneaking around behind Brooke's back in high school, don't you think? Have you _seriously_ not matured since then? Let me ask you something: do you _ever_ consider _anyone_ but yourself?" She arched an eyebrow, awaiting Peyton's answer. Her breathing was heavy.

"Of _course_ I do. Haley, that was forever ago, and I know that it was wrong, but I was _in love_ with Lucas!" She seemed to choke on the words. "And…I don't think that what happened between Chris and I is really any of your –"

Haley's anger was further fueled, and she cut Peyton off. "Oh, it _is_ my business. Since you oh-so-casually waltzed back into our lives, _everything_ you do is my business, particularly because you left a girl in desperate need of some maternal care in my home."

Peyton gasped and teared up, but her voice was steady as she asked: "What are you saying?"

"I know you didn't really have a family growing up, and I know it was hard for you, but that's no excuse for what a horrible mother you've been to Jenny lately. You're so absorbed in your love triangles of eons ago that you're neglecting her, and it's breaking my heart to watch it happen. Lately it seems like I love that little girl more than you do. Jenny deserves that love; she needs her mom, and lately you're not even _close_ to what your kid needs."

Haley knew she was crossing a line. She could actually see it as the intensity of the pain in Peyton's eyes mounted. She knew that her words were too cruel for a girl whose life had been marked by the deaths of two mothers. Peyton still missed Ellie; Haley knew that she always would, just as she'd always mourn the loss of Anna Sawyer. Haley knew she was being a bitch, but she was too hurt and too stubborn to back down.

Peyton just sat there, staring at her as though in shock. Her lips trembled and her eyes were full, but she didn't say a word. She looked utterly exhausted and pretty near broken.

"So," Haley said, "you've left Jenny hanging when she needs you most, broken Chris' heart, and to top it all off, you are _such_ a _hypocrite_."

Peyton lifted her eyebrows, her eyes filled with deep devastation brought on by betrayal, wordlessly and tiredly encouraging Haley to get to her point.

And she did. "When I left to go on tour, to follow my _dream_, everyone knew where I was going. I know that I hurt people, yeah, but I came back and I apologized. But you…you were _so_ pissed off. You were so hard on me. And then you completely disappear for _twelve years_, you pop up again out of nowhere, and I've _supported_ you! I've tried to be there for you, but you are _still_ hiding crap from me – and from Jenny! God, Peyton…where the fuck is Jake? What the hell has been going on with you? What are you so caught up in from so long ago? When the _fuck _are you going to step up for your daughter?"

She couldn't look at Peyton's saddened expression any longer or she'd fall apart. "I'm done," she whispered. "I will _always _be there for Jenny, but I _cannot_ be there for you anymore. You are not the same Peyton Sawyer that I considered to be one of my closest confidantes, my _sister_. You are someone else, and I honestly don't know if I like you."

Haley walked out of the apartment, closing the door quietly behind her. She tripped down the stairs, ran out to the car, and drove home with careful precision, obeying every rule of the road. It wasn't until she was safely at home and within her bewildered husband's arms that she allowed herself to cry.

**A/N:** Next chapter: Brooke and Peyton finally meet. Review, please!


	13. Nocturne

**A/N:** Sorry if I'm being confusing as hell, and for being a total review whore, and for not giving you L/P interaction sooner…but what happens here really does need to happen in order for you all to _finally_ learn the background. It's coming soon. I promise you. Lucas/Peyton love on the show has made me want to put it into my fic, and I'm so impatient to get it out there that I didn't even wait to get 20 reviews on my last chapter. This chapter is important, the next one's really important – I've had it written since before I even wrote the _first_ chapter – and the one after that is the one you've all been patiently waiting for. Read away...

Nocturne: in music, a night-piece; a piece of music that evokes dark sentiments within the listeners

"Daddy? It's your turn." Miranda poked his arm. "Daddy?"

Lucas blinked, coming back to life. "Oh, sorry, sweetie."

He'd picked up Miranda from dance class, and from the moment she'd gotten in the car, she'd been babbling about Candyland. But now that they were engaged in the game, Lucas wasn't proving to be a very good playmate.

Miranda, who was _generally _sweet-tempered despite how her parents spoiled her, was growing tired of him. "When's Mommy coming home?"

"Not for a while, princess. But you're going to get to spend lots of time with her when I'm in New York. Here, Mira, roll; it's your turn."

She accepted the die but did not throw it. "I want to spend time with _both_ of you."

Lucas smiled sympathetically. "I know. When I get home, okay? We'll all hang out, I promise. Now come on, honey, roll. Don't you want to win?"

Brooke was working all the time. Lucas knew that she had to put in a lot of hours at the office in preparation for the days she'd spend at home with Miranda while he was away, but she was going overboard. Even Millie didn't seem to know where she was half the time.

She was avoiding him, he knew that, and he couldn't stop thinking about finding a way to get her to 'fess up. He was determined to get it out of her, refusing to go to Nathan and Haley and inquire as to what the hell was going on. Still, he was pretty much out of time. His flight left that night.

"Daddy." Miranda's weary sigh cut through his train of thought. "It's your turn again."

Lucas grinned apologetically. "I'm pretty bad at this, huh? How about I read to you? You go pick out a book, princess, and I'll put the game away."

Miranda skipped off happily, and Lucas stared after her, wondering _what_ was going on with her mother.

* * *

"Haley?" Nathan asked, panicking. "Hales, what happened? Is someone hurt?"

She nodded, then shook her head. "Not physically," she said bitterly.

"I need you to explain," he said desperately.

She buried her face in his chest, and her words were muffled, but he understood them. "I just went and yelled at Peyton. I needed to, Nathan, she's breaking her daughter's heart and Chris is a wreck and I'm so tired of her secrecy…but God, I think I went too far, and I can't take it back. She deserved it, just…not all of it."

"Well, what did you say?" he asked, gentle and patient. He steered them over to the dining room's table and sat her down before pushing a chair up against hers so they could sit side by side.

"I told her she was a bad mom," Haley said sadly. "And made references to Anna and Ellie that were _not_ at all fair to her and a totally bitchy thing to do."

"Oh, Hales…"

"I'm horrible, right?"

"You're not. You're just frustrated. We all are. Everything's going to be okay."

"I was so excited to have her back," Haley sobbed. "She tore us all up when she left, and I thought things would heal when she came back, but it's all happening again. I missed her. Maybe I shouldn't have."

"You don't mean that," Nathan reasoned calmly. "We all missed her and wished for her to come back. Peyton's hurting too, Haley. That much is obvious. She just needs us again."

"So then I blew it. I messed it all up." She burst into a fresh set of tears. "Nathan, I…I'm so glad to have you."

He smiled softly and wrapped an arm around her. "I love you, too, Hales."

"And Peyton…doesn't have anyone. And I went to lecture her like an idiot."

"None of this is impossible to fix," he assured her.

"I know," she said mournfully, calming down a bit. "I just wish so badly that none of it had been broken in the first place."

* * *

Brooke wasn't sure how she was expecting things to go when she reached the top of the staircase she was currently jogging up, the one that lead from Tric to the Sawyer apartment.

Part of her was revved up for confrontation. _How dare you?_ she wanted to scream. _How dare you love my boyfriend? How dare you disappear for so long? How dare you ignore me in Los Angeles? How dare you skip my wedding? How dare you appear in Tree Hill again after all this time and shake up my world?_

But another part of her wanted to start crying and throw her arms around her very best friend, who'd been lost to her for so long.

She placed her hand on the knob and twisted. The door swung open invitingly. Brooke allowed herself a small smile. Unlocked door and welcoming atmosphere. That was how Peyton's house always used to be for her.

Inside, it was not quite so welcoming but…still. Impeccably quiet. She set her purse down near the door. "Peyton?" she called mutedly, and let the hesitant syllables settle into the air. The entire apartment was spotless. It didn't look lived in. Brooke peered around, and made a beeline for the only closed door, which was actually just cracked open. She pushed on it gently, asking again, "Peyton? You here?"

She was. Curled up under a blanket on the bed, staring at the TV bleakly, not really watching it.

"Hey," Brooke said quietly, softening with worry as she regarded Peyton's prone form.

The blonde squinted at her as if confused about whether she was real or an illusion. "Brooke? What're you doing here?" she question, soft and slow.

Brooke leaned against the doorframe and wiped her sweaty palms on her charcoal gray pencil skirt. It was one of her favourite pieces in her wardrobe, one that usually gave her an unalterable sense of power, but standing there, she felt seventeen again. "I thought we could talk," she finally said.

Peyton nodded and gave her a mirthless smile. "Of course. God, Brooke…" she shook her head, trailing off. Her eyes filled with tears. "I am so sorry."

Her misery alarmed Brooke. "Hey," she said again, taking a couple steps toward the bed, resisting the urge to rush over and hug her old friend. "It's okay," she soothed, because she wanted to make Peyton feel better, and because in some ways, it was.

Peyton's tears overflowed, coursing down her pale cheeks. "No. It's not." She wiped away her tears furiously and choked on a sob. "I want so badly to be stronger than this. I'm tired of crying. But, Brooke…I screwed up really badly. I fucked _everything_ up."

Brooke's heart ached. She couldn't hold back any longer. She had maternal instincts when it came to Peyton. They'd been intensified by Anna's death, but the girls had always taken care of each other. She felt driven to comfort her friend. She crawled onto the bed in her expensive outfit and settled right next to Peyton. "Honey…" she said compassionately. "It's alright."

"I slept with Chris," Peyton blurted, her words mangled by her tears.

Brooke could feel her eyes widen, and she struggled to disguise her shock. "Chris…Keller?"

Peyton nodded miserably. "I'm such a mess. God, I've tried so had, but I screwed it up anyway."

"What?" Brooke asked patiently, though she was growing more and more baffled by the second.

"Being a mom. Jenny deserves so much better than me."

"Hey. No. You've always taken care of her."

"That doesn't matter. I suck at this. I'm hurting Jenny, and I know I hurt you and Nathan and Haley, and I hurt Chris. I didn't even stop to think that he might feel something for me, but he does, and I just _used_ him."

Brooke frowned, more confused still. "Chris _likes_ you?"

"Apparently," Peyton replied with a shaky shrug. "How could I have been such a moron and a heartless bitch to instantly assume that he was only in it for sex?"

The brunette winced at a high school memory, but said comfortingly, if not a bit wryly, "You based that thought on past evidence."

"But it still wasn't _fair_," Peyton insisted, lifting her hands and baring her palms. "Just like it wasn't fair of me to tell you that I loved Luke in twelfth grade," she added with a guilty, unhappy glance at her old best friend.

Brooke slipped an arm around Peyton's slim shoulders. "It's okay, P. Sawyer," she promised. "I got overly upset. It's in the past. High school drama, that's all," she told the sobbing girl. "It's okay."

"It's not. And Haley's right, she has good reason to be upset. I'm not being a good mother to Jenny, and that's not fair either."

"Haley doesn't think that," Brooke said instantly.

"She told me," Peyton stated flatly. "She came and yelled at me and told me everything I'm done is wrong…and it is."

"It _isn't_. And Peyton, you know Haley. Even if she said that, she didn't mean it."

"But what if she did? What if it's _true_? Being Jenny's mom and my label. Those have been the two biggest things in my life for a long time, and Jenny's always been the most important. But I screwed up." Her lips trembled. "What if I failed?"

"You didn't," Brooke insisted, believing it. "I don't know what's going on between you two, but I _do_ know how much you love Jenny, and I _know_ that she knows it, too."

Peyton didn't seem to be listening to her anymore. "I've let Jake down," she whispered. "And…my mom, and Ellie…they would have wanted me to do better. _I_ wanted to do better."

"You've done _fine_. You've done perfectly. Please believe me, babe." She pulled Peyton closer, and her blonde head of curls fell softly onto Brooke's shoulder. "It's okay," Brooke repeated firmly, as she felt Peyton's tears against her neck.

After a lengthy silence, Peyton whispered, "Thank you, B. Even if you're lying."

Tears sprang to Brooke's eyes as she smiled appreciatively. It was funny how some things withstood the test of time, funny that she could march up the stairs with every intention of screaming at Peyton, and end up comforting her instead. It was funny that despite all the havoc Peyton had wreaked in their lives, it seemed like she had actually been the one to lose the most, the one who need comfort much more than criticism. "I'm not lying," Brooke said, her voice not even a whisper, but she knew that Peyton heard her.

* * *

"So then I just walked no stage and started playing. And of course they weren't going to stop me then!" Ryanna said with a casual, tinkling laugh.

"Of course," Jenny murmured sarcastically.

Jordan's knee came to rest gently against hers. She turned to look at him and her heart fluttered at the sight of his kindly sympathetic, inside-joke smile, but she turned away after a beat.

All twelve CMC campers were eating together just off the river walk at two picnic tables pushed against one another. Ryanna was holding court, and Jenny simply wasn't in the mood for her worship-me attitude.

She wished she'd never come. Haley was helping her with her music in ways she'd never thought possible, and Jordan seemed like such a perfect guy for her, but she didn't know if it was worth it. Weeks ago, she'd had a family within her group of friends, with a slew of musicians and record execs who doted on her, and at home with her mom. Now she had the Scotts, and Jordan, but she didn't feel as safe as she once had, as sure of herself and her life.

She _knew_ that she'd overreacted, flipping out at Peyton just minutes after they'd reconciled, but her emotions were all over the place. Coming back to Tree Hill had made a mess of things, and she really didn't know how to handle it. She had face crisis before, but always with her mother, not against her.

Jenny couldn't stand Ryanna for another moment. She stood abruptly and slipped awkwardly out of her spot at the picnic table. Eleven faces stared up at her quizzically.

"I'm gonna take a walk. Clear my head."

She moved to step away, but Jordan's hand on hers kept her from going anywhere. He intertwined their fingers and gave her hand a squeeze. "You want company?"

Jenny smiled at him. She feared she would start crying and never stop if she opened her mouth, so she just squeezed his hand back gratefully and nodded.

* * *

Brooke carefully arranged the gourmet coffee and pastries neatly on the bedside table.

Peyton, emotionally exhausted, had fallen asleep a couple hours ago. Brooke had spent those hours sitting on the bed, watching over her protectively and contemplating the past twelve years.

She wanted to take every minute of their separation back. Peyton still didn't lock her doors, but the significant stuff had changed. It had taken its toll. Things were done that could not be rectified. Hurt was caused that it would be hard to forgive. They both gave up sooner than they should have. They both had too much pride. They both still feared each other in strange, vulnerable ways.

But as she sat there staring at her fast-asleep friend, she knew that she still loved her. She couldn't be as worried as she was about someone she didn't care about.

And she knew Peyton. She didn't break down in front of just anybody. That meant something, it did.

She wanted them to find their way back. The thought both delighted and terrified her.

Brooke was reluctant to leave Peyton, but she also knew that she had to. She didn't have the strength or the courage to face that intensity and the awkwardness that would ensue in the moments after Peyton opened her eyes. Maybe she could have found that strength, but she wasn't ready yet. Besides, she needed to go home. Lucas thought she was still at work. She missed her family, even though it had only been hours since she'd last seen her husband and daughter. And Lucas' flight to New York left in three hours – they needed to get to the airport.

She at least made sure that Peyton had some good food when she woke up. She didn't know if it was her imagination of not, but Peyton looked particularly skinny, in a tormented way, and it worried her. So she'd ordered treats from her favourite, pricey bakery and left them for her friend. She knew that Peyton could take care of herself, she just worried. She couldn't help it.

After she picked up her purse, and smoothed the wrinkles out of her flimsy blouse as best as she could, she looked in on Peyton one last time.

Gently, she brushed Peyton's hair out of her face. "We'll do this when you feel better," she whispered, smiling affectionately. Peyton looked angelically innocent when she slept, sometimes a sharp contrast to her waking personality. She always had. Brooke nodded to herself. "You're gonna be fine," she said. "Everything's going to be _fine_."

* * *

Peyton woke up slowly, clinging to sleep. She rolled onto her back and pressed the heels of her palms against her sore, tired eyes.

When she removed her hands, she saw that her silent room was softly illuminated by the lat rays of the day's sun, penetrating her thin, white curtains. She couldn't believe that the awful day _still_ wasn't over.

She smiled slightly when she saw that Brooke had sweetly left her coffee and croissants, but she wasn't hungry. She reached for the remote sitting on her night table and pointed it at her small, cheap CD player. She set the remote down by her side and lay still, waiting for the music to fill the room.

_Woke up, and wished that I was dead; with an aching in my head, I lay motionless in bed. I thought of you, and where you've gone. And let the world spin madly on. _

Peyton scowled as her lips slipped into a pout. "Stupid freaking all-knowing psychic CD player…" she muttered grumpily. She hit the stop button and threw the remote to the floor before flinging off her blanket and standing up. She needed to stop being a pathetic mess. She needed to stop bawling and find another, more beneficial form of therapy.

She rummaged through her halfway-unpacked bags and pulled out a lightweight blue dress. She shed her pyjamas in favour of the dress, which she cinched at the waist with a belt. She brushed her hair and put on makeup before she looked in the mirror, and was pleased to see that she actually looked put together.

Downstairs in Tric, Chris was talking with a couple musicians and campers, his fingers toying confidently with the strings of his guitar. There was something almost sensual about it, and Peyton halted in the stairwell for a moment. Chris was a musician, he was sexy, and he apparently had a thing for her. She had to ask herself: could they work together? It would be so wonderful if she could be happy with Chris, to live a life that was a blissful blend of music and sarcasm and love. Jenny would be over the moon to have _Chris Keller_ as her stepfather. A part of her wanted it so badly.

But she knew it wasn't meant to be. Peyton tended to doubt herself, but her immediate instincts had never been wrong. They came into play rarely…but they were the best thing she had. And she knew. It couldn't happen.

Besides, it would be stupid to think that Chris could be Jake for her, that she could have that life back. It had been good. It had. But it had ended. And…in the depths of her heart, Peyton knew that she didn't want it back. There would always be other things for her to long for, unattainable things that she tried not to think about too often.

Her hand drifted up to her neck, her fingers gently tangling in the rings that rested there. She rarely took off the chain she wore them on. No one in Tree Hill, not even Chris, had asked about them, and she was glad. She didn't like having to explain. Her friends, musicians and managers and other owners of labels, liked to tease her about her "mysterious rings", making silly references to J. R. R. Tolkein's famous novels and bad horror movies. Peyton tolerated it all with a smile and never offered up an explanation.

Wedding rings. That's what they were: her wedding rings. She wasn't entirely sure why she still wore them. She'd taken them off her finger years ago, but she still kept them on her person most of the time. As a reminder. That they weren't a burden – never had been and never would be. She'd given her heart to Jake and she didn't regret it. Sometimes she needed to remind the world of that fact…and sometimes she needed to remind herself.

Especially since, as much as she wanted to be blasé about it, she couldn't deny that she was affected by the fact that she was once again in the same town as Lucas Scott.

She didn't know what to do about it. The thought made her heart rest, and memories tortured her; she wanted to let go of her morals and inhibitions and just…

Chris glanced up and happened to see her. They locked eyes for a millisecond before he frowned and looked away.

Peyton was filled with remorse. She wasn't going to do any of that. She'd hurt enough, and she'd been hurt enough. Lucas was happily married and way over her. She had wedding rings around her neck and Jenny to think about. She had her life and he had his. If Brooke knew she was in town, then he must have, too. And had Lucas, the boy who once claimed that he _loved being that guy for her_, sought her out? No. Further proof of how separate their lives were. End of story.

Peyton stole out of Tric and slipped into the small, unremarkable car she was renting. She'd driven her beloved Comet to Savannah the second time she'd fled there, messily packed with her basic wardrobe and her most precious belongings. The best and most meaningful albums Ellie had left her, clothing and drawings of her mother's, her own drawing of Jake and Jenny before they left on her father's boat, mementos from her childhood, and her pillow. She left her webcam, her people-always-leave artwork, her old photo albums, the records that had been a soundtrack to life she no longer lived, and a black-and-white drawing with a caption that read: _And now we can't have it_.

When she left Savannah for L.A., she left her car behind. And while she missed it, she was glad about the anonymity her boring, safe car provided. Driving the Comet around town would have been the same as announcing over a loudspeaker system that Peyton Sawyer was home.

She went to the small, quiet art store she'd frequented as a teen and headed straight for the paint. Her fingers grazed the reds, the colour her room had once been. She sighed in blissful relief as she examined the endless supply of paint available to her. This was a homecoming, pure and simple, without strings attached.

This was how she was going to heal.

* * *

"Brooke, where have you been?" Lucas demanded the moment she walked through the door. He had the phone in his hand; it had certainly gotten a workout over the past two and a half hours. "I've been looking for you for hours. Millie said you disappeared from work, and your BlackBerry was off." He'd been worried about her.

She nodded, giving him an apologetic smile. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Brooke, _what_ is going on?" She looked at little less put together than she normally did, a little sadder and a bit more undone. And she wasn't giving him any sort of explanation.

"Nothing," she replied, avoiding his eyes. At his incredulous, irritated look, she amended, "Nothing you need to worry about. I promise."

Lucas just stared at her, at her messy hair and rumpled clothing, and tried to come up with some kind of theory as to where she'd been.

Brooke cracked a small grin. "Do I totally look like I'm having an affair right now?" she asked.

"A little bit," he admitted.

She walked over to him and placed a hand on either side of his face, kissing him fully on the lips. "I'm sorry, Luke, I am. But it's just something I needed to take care of. Business. I swear to you."

He sighed, annoyed and unsatisfied with her explanation. "I trust you, I just…Shit, I've gotta get out of here," he noted, pointing at the clock.

"I know. I'm sorry. Is Mira ready?"

"Yeah. And I'm all packed."

"Okay." She sighed. "It's just a couple days, right?"

He nodded.

"I'm going to miss you, Broody," she whispered, giving him another quick kiss. "Miranda Scott!" she called over his shoulder. "Get your adorable self down here, please! Daddy's got a plane to catch."

Miranda skipped down the stairs and ran toward them, calling, "Mommy!"

"Hey, beautiful girl," Brooke gushed, bending down to kiss Miranda's cheeks.

"She missed you," Lucas said quietly, knowing that it was a low blow, but unable to resist. He was getting annoyed.

Brooke shot him a wounded glance as she straightened up. "Do not start with me right now," she murmured angrily. "I know you're confused, and I'm sorry I was late, but we are not doing this right now. Let's just go get you on that plane."

"Fine," Lucas replied, matching her tone as he placed his hand on the handle of his bag. "C'mon, princess, see if you can beat me to the car," he told Miranda with a smile.

The drive to the airport was uncomfortably tense, and made even more awkward by the fact that Miranda was completely oblivious to her parents' problems, and babbled happily the entire way there. Lucas and Brooke plastered on their best smiles and used their most enthusiastic voices when they interacted with her, but said virtually nothing to one another.

When they arrived, Lucas checked in, and right outside of security scooped Miranda up to say goodbye. He tickled her and promised to bring presents, asked her to be good for her mother, and told her that he loved her more than anything. She giggled and gave him a great big kiss before he set her down, and straightened up to come face to face with his wife.

"I'll be back in four days," he said simply.

"Yeah. I know," Brooke replied, waiting for more.

"So…bye." He went to turn away, but her voice stopped him.

"Lucas," she said sadly, and he turned back. Hey eyes were watery. "I'm sorry, babe," she said quietly. "Just…fly safe, okay? I love you so much."

He softened and opened his arms for a hug, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, too. I'll see you again soon."

"Bye, Daddy!" chirped Miranda, and he extended an arm to include her in the hug.

"I'll see you in no time, my girls," he assured them fondly, and locked his eyes with Brooke. "When I come back, you'll explain?"

She took a deep breath. "When you come back," she agreed, leaning in for one last kiss. "We'll miss you…won't we, Mira?"

"Yeah!"

He smiled at them both, and after kissing each of them one last time, he turned and joined the line to go through security. He had a busy few days planned in New York, and he needed to focus on his work. When he came back, Brooke would explain everything, and they could get back to normality…if only he could write again.

* * *

"Coming!" Nathan called irritably to whoever was standing on the other side of the door. Haley was lying down, emotionally spent, and Sebastian wouldn't stop crying. Nathan was tired of the constant drama and traffic at their house. It used to be so peaceful, so much easier.

He swung open the door to reveal a nervous-looking Peyton. "Hey," he said loudly over Sebastian's wailing, surprised to see her.

"Hey," she replied softly. She looked stressed, but generally good. Her fingers were stained with paint, a pleasantly familiar sight. "You look like hell."

"Thanks, Peyt," he responded sarcastically, opening the door wider to allow her entry. "My two-year-old's been bawling for about half an hour; it's not exactly my fault."

"Aw," she cooed at Sebastian. "May I?" she asked, and Nathan willingly handed over the screaming toddler.

"Hey, you," she crooned, tickling him gently and making faces. "What's the matter?"

Sebastian's sobs quieted a bit as he studied her face curiously.

"Nothing, right?" Peyton asked teasingly. "You're just cranky." She blew a raspberry on his cheek and his muted whimpering turned into giggles. "Yeah, you are, you handsome guy."

Nathan stared at her incredulously. "I tried _all_ of that."

She shrugged, grinning at him. "Yeah, well, you suck."

"Hey!" he protested, but he couldn't help but grin back. He was glad that she wasn't screaming at him. He thought the next time he saw Peyton it would be for a fight in which she would yell at him for revealing to her daughter that she wasn't actually…her daughter. However, from what Haley had told him, he sensed that Peyton was in need of allies at this point, and he was more than willing to be one, especially if it saved him from a lecture he kind of deserved.

Sebastian began playing with the rings she wore around her neck as she said softly, "I was actually…looking for Jenny."

Nathan nodded. "I think she's out with some other camper kids. Everything's a little crazy right now, so I don't know where exactly, I'm sorry…but I'm sure she's fine."

"Don't worry about it. I'll just go."

"Hey, no…you should stay for a while."

She lifted her eyebrows. "I really don't think Haley would like that," she confessed shakily.

"She's taking a nap. Come in and hang out with me; it's my house, too. Besides, if you leave, he might start crying again," he added, gesturing to the two-year-old she held.

Peyton laughed appreciatively. "Okay."

They sat down on the same couch, and Peyton grabbed one of Sebastian's toys and settled him between them.

At a loss for words, Nathan said the first thing that came to mind: "He adores you. Not everybody gets that smile."

Peyton smiled, too, but it was more regret than joy. "He's so beautiful. All your kids are." She shook her head, blinking quickly. "I hate that I missed all of this."

"It's okay," he said comfortingly, well aware of all the grief she'd been getting for her lack of involvement in their lives. "It really is."

"Nate. That's nice of you to say. But you know it's really not."

He smiled sheepishly. "I tried. You've got to give me that."

"Ball!" Sebastian declared, holding out a soft ball to Peyton.

"Yeah," she agreed with a quiet laugh, reaching out to tickle him. She was good with him, and in spite of all the hellish drama, she'd done well with Jenny. The Peyton Sawyer he'd dated in high school was not someone Nathan had ever imagined becoming a mother, but she clearly had strong maternal instincts. He wondered why she'd never had children of her own.

Peyton smiled at him softly, looking up from Sebastian. "Where's your head, Nathan Scott?" she asked.

He shook his head. Peyton didn't need another inquisition. "Nowhere. What about you, Sawyer?" The use of his familiar affectionate term for her brought up another question in his mind. She still had her maiden name. Did that mean that she had never married Jake, never married anyone?

"Brooke came by today," she said without preamble.

Nathan winced. There was something else she had reason to yell at him for. "I'm sorry."

She frowned. "It's not exactly your fault."

"No, I…because I told her where to find you. I'm sorry, she was just so insistent and you know, Brooke Davis-Scott can be a little scary, and I was stressed and Haley was being confusing as hell…" he trailed off. Several emotions had played over Peyton's face as he spoke. There was the briefest flash of pain when he said _Brooke Davis-Scott_, which he both disapproved of and understood. He hated it, but he suspected that Peyton and Lucas would always feel like they had some kind of claim over each other, even when they really, totally, and completely didn't. Chris Keller had been right about that, in a way. When he mentioned Haley, he saw a glimmer of hurt, undoubtedly stemming from Haley's earlier decision to go and scream at her. But the one he focused on and spoke about was surprise.

"You…didn't know," he sighed. "She came by earlier looking for you. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, Nathan. _I'm_ sorry, for complicating things so much."

"Peyton," he said softly, seriously. "No matter how fu- screwed up," he corrected, eyeing his youngest son, "things have been lately…we are _all_ glad to have you home. We missed you."

"Aw, Nathan," she laughed, with a genuine smile on her lips. "You are _such_ a softie at heart."

He rolled his eyes, embarrassed. "Yeah. Well. Anyway. Did you two get into a good, old-fashioned catfight?"

"Shut up," she said, rolling her own eyes. "No, um…I actually, I'm kind of glad she came. I needed her," she shrugged. "I was kind of a mess. Big surprise, huh? When am I not?"

Nathan opened his mouth to convince her otherwise, but something over her shoulder caught his eye. "Speaking of…" he said gently, nodding toward the girl who stood in the doorway.

Peyton turned, and Jenny shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously. "Mom? What're you doing here?"

Peyton swallowed thickly. "Looking for you. I see that you're calling me Mom again," she said, keeping her tone steady and casual.

Jenny shrugged embarrassedly, and waited for her to continue. Nathan wondered if he should get up and leave, but he suspected that would call attention to his presence and make everything worse.

"Listen, babe," Peyton said, her voice still controlled. "I'm sorry, alright? I am _so _sorry. I love you, always have and always will. But you need to make up your mind, okay? I want you to forgive me. I want you to trust me, and I'm sorry if that means you won't always know what's going on. I would love for that to happen. But if you can't, if you make up your mind to hate me then…fine," she said painfully. "Then that's it, you hate me. But I can't do this anymore, Jen, and I don't want to put you through it, either. This cycle needs to stop."

Jenny crossed her arms, hugging herself. "I know," she said softly.

"Okay," Peyton said simply.

Her daughter bit down on her lower lip. "It sucks," she sighed. "I overreacted. I meant what I said. The first things, not the angry things. I don't want this to go on anymore. And I…I'm sorry, too."

Peyton just nodded.

"Mom…" Jenny stopped, her eyes wet. "I…"

Peyton exhaled shakily. "I know," she breathed.

Jenny nodded.

Nathan cleared his throat. "Jenny, why don't you grab some of your stuff and go stay with your mom for a couple days? I'm sure that's fine with Haley."

Jenny nodded again and took off for her room, and Nathan turned his attention back to Peyton. "You okay?" he asked her softly, unsure of what else to say.

She shrugged, smiling sadly. "I'm okay if she's okay. She's my life."

He nodded understandingly. "I know she is. But I also know that you have your own problems to deal with. Jenny's going to be fine, Peyton…but are _you_ okay?"

She looked reflective. Sebastian held the ball out to her again and she smiled affectionately down at him, gently ruffling his already-messy hair. She looked back up at Nathan and offered him a weak smile. "Look at you," she said quietly. "Look at your life. I can't think of anything I want more than what you've got. I love Jenny and my music, and I wouldn't trade those things back for the world, but I always feel like I'm waiting for something to complete it all."

"You'll get it," Nathan replied confidently, locking eyes with her.

She sighed. "That's the thing. I've chosen what I have…and I don't regret it because Jenny alone is enough to make my life great. But I think I'm twelve years too late for the rest of it all."


	14. Sonata

**A/N:** As always, a million thanks for the reviews. This chapter's a pretty important one for me, and I hope I've done all that occurs in it justice. I had a lot of fun throwing the character of Lindsay into a different role in Lucas' life, but the really important thing about this chapter is the interaction between Brooke and Peyton. Read and review, please.

Sonata: a piece of music that is meant to be played, not sung. It varies in a slow-fast-slow-fast pattern that allows for hamonies to blend together well.

Jenny woke up to her mother tickling her mercilessly, and she instantly burst into a fit of giggles. "Stop, stop!" she cried, kicking off the blanket she'd slept underneath in an effort to fight Peyton off.

"Do you promise not to go back to sleep?" Peyton demanded, not letting up.

"I promise!" Jenny shrieked through her laughter.

Her mother held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, then…if you promise."

Jenny sat up on the couch, where she'd slept. The sunlight in the room, the walls of which were painted in random areas, was soft and pretty. "What _time_ is it?" she asked as she sat up, smiling at her mother, who sat down next to her.

"Six fifteen," Peyton shrugged.

Jenny's face melted into a horrified expression. "_What_? I don't even have to wake up this early for CMC stuff!"

"What are you saying?" Peyton teased. "CMC's more important then me?"

"No," Jenny admitted laughingly.

"Okay, so, up you get," Peyton declared, standing up and offering Jenny her hands.

She took them but didn't let herself be pulled up yet. "But why?"

Peyton tugged her to her feet and pulled her into a hug, kissing her forehead before she released her. "Because you and I are going to have an awesome day today, and I don't want to miss any of it. Nathan called earlier; you're all mine until studio time with Haley at five."

Jenny shook her head. "_You_ are _crazy_."

"But…?" Peyton added, tilting her head as she awaited the answer.

"But I missed you," Jenny filled in grudgingly, but grinned. She really had. A crazy day with her mother had never sounded better.

* * *

Lucas rapped lightly on the half-open, imposingly formal door. "You looking for someone to yell at?" he asked by way of greeting.

Lindsay looked up from the papers she was scribbling correctional notes on and pulled off her glasses. Her expression morphed from one of frustrated boredom to joy. "Luke!" she cried happily. "Yes, I would absolutely _love_ to yell at you!" she exclaimed laughingly as she hurried over to hug him.

He chuckled as they embraced, and jammed his hands into his pockets when they pulled apart. "Alright, Linds. Let me have it."

She sighed contemplatively as she studied him. "You _really_ don't have anything for me?"

He shrugged, apologetic and ashamed, knowing that he'd disappointed her. "A couple hundred words that I hate."

Lindsay nodded. "Okay." She grabbed her purse, throwing her cell phone and some sunscreen in. She placed a hand on Lucas' elbow to steer him out of her office. "We're going for a walk."

* * *

Haley awoke to find her six-year-olds and their toys crawling all over her bed.

"Hey, guys," she said drowsily.

"You slept a lot," Noah informed her, his Scott blue eyes wide and serious.

"Yeah, Mommy, it's one-two-zero-zero," Nick, who read the time on digital clocks literally, added.

"It's noon," she murmured. "Wow, I did sleep a lot, didn't I?"

Nathan appeared in the doorway of their room. "Hey, boys, go watch TV with Jamie, okay?"

"Mommy's awake," they chorused.

He grinned. "I see that. Now get your butts out of here."

They scrambled off the bed and out the door as Haley sat up, running her fingers through her hair. Nathan walked over and sat at the foot of the bed, resting a hand on her calf. "How're you doing?"

She smiled at his concern. "I'm fine. Jenny came back last night, right?" she asked worriedly.

Nathan nodded. "Yeah, of course. But I sent her home with Peyton."

Haley frowned. "What? Nathan! You should have talked to me first! They're fighting!"

"They made up. She wanted to go, Hales, I didn't force her."

"Okay…" she murmured uncertainly, still not sure that he'd made his decision with Jenny's best interests at heart.

"Trust me." Nathan rubbed her calf gently. "Speaking of Peyton…don't you think you two should talk? She was over here yesterday, and she seemed shaken up by what happened between you two."

She scowled. "You two talked?" she demanded, a little too harshly.

"Don't make me take sides, Haley," he said, kindly but firmly.

"I…I'm _not_, I'm just…worried about Jenny."

"Peyton is her mother. Hales…it's great that you love her, but Peyton's her _mom_. We need to respect that."

"I know," she admitted.

"You and Peyton should talk, work things out. This isn't good for either of you."

Haley sighed. "I want to, but it's too soon. I hate some of the things I said…but I really did mean others, and I won't take them back. She needs space and I need time and…we both have things to apologize for."

"So apologize for them," Nathan shrugged.

She smiled sadly. "Too soon, babe."

"Okay…"

"Trust me," Haley said, her smile growing as she repeated his earlier words.

Nathan smiled back. "Always."

She sat up onto her knees, steadying herself with a hand on his knees as she kissed him. She sighed against his lips, thankful for her husband and her life, and the fact that she could have faith that things would get better. "And forever," she breathed.

* * *

"We're out of white sugar," Jenny declared.

"Impossible!" Peyton cried, whirling around to look at her daughter. The two skinny, moody blondes were in remarkably good cheer, and in the spirit of random happiness, had decided to make chocolate chip cookies, an old favourite. Neither of them were very good in the kitchen, but occasionally they decided to work together to create something that may or may not turn out well. The result really wasn't the point of it: it was mother-daughter bonding at its best, something Peyton had never experienced at Jenny's age.

The brightly lit kitchen was already fairly messy. The windows were wide open and the tunes were blasting at full volume. When Jenny pointed out that everyone on the street could hear their mixed CDs, Peyton shrugged, shot the younger girl a devilish grin, and pointed out the inhabitants of Tree Hill could use a little musical education.

Jenny held the empty sugar bag up as evidence, shaking it to prove its emptiness.

"No!" Peyton said sadly, as if it was a great tragedy. "I don't understand. What the hell else do we use sugar for?"

"Cereal in the morning," Jenny said with a pretty smile and a pointed look. She never let Peyton live that habit down – she tended to add even more sugar to her Frosted Flakes.

"Okay, genius, fine," Peyton pretended to fume, but she couldn't really mask her happiness. Things were right with her daughter again. Jenny had forgiven her for this particular secret, and had accepted her as her mother again. Peyton had to admit that she'd been worried about nothing, in a way. Jenny was her daughter. She'd raised her, practically since birth. Most of the time, she could tell that Jenny forgot the bitter truth that had been kept from her for all those years. Their relationship was solid; it had already endured the tests of fights and time and separations. It was the two of them against the world, it always had been. Jenny was Peyton's daughter – they looked alike and acted similarly. They shared the occasional piece of clothing and all of their music. Jenny had been hurt by the truth, but the reality of the situation was that Peyton loved her like a mother and always would. She'd come to realize that, much to Peyton's relief.

"What do we do now? Do we have to stop?" Jenny pouted, looking around the kitchen.

"Of course not, honey. We'll just substitute in brown sugar. It'll make them nice and chewy."

"Great." Jenny filled a cup with brown sugar and emptied into the large bowl.

Peyton grabbed the beater and plugged it in. She plunged the beaters into the bowl, took a deep breath and a step back, and began to mix.

It wasn't actually too bad. Only a little bit of sugar flew into the air to cover the already-buttery counter. Both of them winced a little at first, but soon ventured closer to the bowl. Jenny got the flour ready and waited for Peyton's instructions.

"Vanilla extract first, kiddo," Peyton reminded her kindly. She watched her daughter affectionately as she measured out two teaspoons and dumped them in. After a moment of mixing she said, "Okay, hit me with that flour."

The flour hit the beaters as it went into the bowl, and flew everywhere. Shocked and with flour in her eyes, Peyton lost her grip on the beater and it went flying across the counter, sending batter all over the room and its two occupants.

"Mom!" shrieked Jenny, bursting into a fit of joyous laughter.

Peyton started giggling, too. "We might have to start over, huh?" she asked over the whir of the beaters and the music.

Jenny grinned heartbreakingly. "I love you, Mom," she laughed, amused, but her words were honest and serious.

Peyton's eyes filled with tears, partly from the sugar and flour flying at her, but also from emotion, as she looked at Jenny fondly. "Aw, baby," she said softly, "Back at you."

They both felt the emotional intensity of it, but Peyton, simply relieved to have her daughter back, let Jenny chose when to break it. The fourteen-year-old looked down at the floor, modest despite her smile, before she stuck her hand in the bowl and took a handful of dough.

"You wouldn't," Peyton said with a small smile.

"Oh, but I would!" Jenny cried, flinging it at her as Modest Mouse played in the background.

Peyton gasped as the clump of cookie dough hit her cheek, and immediately grabbed the bag of chocolate chips, and in retaliation, threw them at Jenny. It didn't matter if they got dirty – they were both outfitted in pyjama shorts and lightweight hoodies, their blonde hair gathered into messy, curly ponytails. The two of them laughed and flung uncooked food at each other for nearly five minutes, until a song Peyton immediately recognized came on the stereo and she cried, "Truce, truce; Jenny, listen!"

It was a Rachel Stevens song called _Knock on Wood_ that she used to listen to with Jake when they were feeling particularly silly or restless. A song for a cloudy, dreary day. When it was raining out, Jenny went to sleep more easily than she normally did. Jake and Peyton always laughed and teased each other throughout the morning on rainy days when they were both at home, knowing that they'd take Jenny's long, lazy nap as an opportunity to make love. Afterward, they'd curl up together: she drew while he played his guitar. They'd fall into the most peaceful, comfortable silence, occasionally pausing in their respective activities to make out, until Jenny awoke. When she did, Jake would put on some old, corny music – like _Everlasting Love, My Girl, _or _Knock on Wood_ and start cooking for them. Peyton would scoop Jenny up and dance her around the kitchen, laughing with the boy she loved and the little girl she so adored. Jenny would giggle so delightedly that the day would actually brighten for Peyton. Rainy days at home had been the epitome of the pleasant life she lived in Savannah.

Peyton got the beater under control as she and Jenny grabbed cookie dough-covered spatulas and used them as microphones as they danced around in the kitchen, singing at the top of their lungs.

"_It's like thunder….and lightning…the way you love me is frightening!_" Jenny sang, the occasional giggle interrupting her words.

They broke into the next phrase together: "_You better knock (knock, knock, knock, knock)…on wood! Ba-by! Ooh, ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh…ba-by, ooh…yeah!"_ Peyton raised her eyebrows and the two of them burst into hysterical laugher.

* * *

Lucas and Lindsay meandered through Central Park, sipping iced coffees and people-watching.

"Talk to me, Luke," she said simply, sidestepping slightly so that their arms touched, encouraging him to speak.

"Why'm I always the one who has to talk?" he teased, stalling. "Why don't you tell me about _you_?"

She shook her head. "You know enough about me, Lucas. I like to maintain a little mystery, it's my privilege as editor."

"So just because I'm the writer, you get to psychologically analyze me?"

Lindsay shrugged, feigning innocence as she wore a secretive smile. "If that's what you want to call it." She eyed him in her peripheral vision. "How's your life?"

"Pretty perfect."

"Your girls are good?"

He grinned. "Yeah. Mira's taking ballet and loving it, Brooke's still really successful…but she's hiding something from me."

"Brooke is?"

"Yeah. I really want to believe that it's nothing – she says it is. But it's worrying me…and annoying me. I wish she'd be honest."

"Do you think that's why you're struggling with your writing? Because whatever Brooke's keeping from you is bothering you?"

Lucas raised his eyebrows and smiled ironically. "I wish. Brooke's been evasive for about three days. It's been years since I've submitted any good writing to you." He shook his head. "What's your assessment, Psychologist Strauss?"

"Lucas…I have to be honest with you. It's been too long. The powers that be are getting annoyed with us both. Your writing is fantastic; it speaks to me, you know that. I don't want to let you go. I've been fighting like hell to keep you."

He hung his head a bit. "I know, Linds. And I really appreciate it."

"I know you do, Luke, but I can't keep it up. I'm putting my career on the line by calling my credibility into question. You _need_ to write something."

Lucas sighed. "I just can't."

"I'm happy that you're happy, but whatever used to inspire you is missing. You have to think about what your life was like when you wrote your first novel. You need to contrast you high school life with your life today. What essential, inspirational thing did you have then that you don't have now?"

* * *

Brooke drove down the street with the top of her VW Bug convertible down. The summer sun was warm on her already-tanned skin, and she drove with confident assurance, her Gucci sunglasses perched on her perfectly powdered nose.

As she sailed down the road past Tric, she heard the unmistakably loud sounds of uncharacteristically peppy music, if it was indeed Peyton who was playing it. The windows to her old friend's apartment were thrown open, and the white curtains, which gave off a calm, innocent vibe, moved with the wind.

She hadn't spoken to Peyton since the previous day, when she'd comforted her about the whole Chris debacle. Haley had already filled her in with the basic info that Peyton was back, having come to Tree Hill along with Jenny Jagielski for a music program the young teen was attending for the eight weeks of summer. That had confirmed the assumption she'd made years ago that Peyton had run back to Jake, but it clarified little else. Why had Peyton insisted on accompanying Jenny? That was the real mystery, along with the other obvious questions, such as what the deal with Jake and L.A. was. It'd been a shock to her to learn that Peyton was back in town, and she'd been a bit uneasy about it. They'd parted on cold, bitter terms, and when she'd went after Peyton in Los Angeles to make it right, she'd been totally snubbed.

The blaring sun and clear sky seemed so optimistic that she was filled with a sudden surge of confidence and determination. Peyton was clearly in a good mood, hence the cheery tunes. Brooke had a totally free afternoon, and she decided it was high time for a heart-to-heart with the girl she'd once loved so dearly. The timing was as good as it was ever going to get. Lucas was in New York having a book-talk session with his editor, Mira was settled with Karen and Lily for an afternoon of fun, and she'd just had a facial, so she felt entirely refreshed. She parked in Tric's lot with certainty and slipped out of the car.

When she stepped inside Tric, she realized that the energetic music she was hearing was…disco. She'd never, in her life, expected to encounter Peyton listening to disco, but she guessed that wonders never ceased. She jogged up the stairs impatiently, and slipped through the unlocked door without knocking. Some things never changed.

She was pleasantly surprised by what she saw the moment she entered the well-designed apartment. The walls were all white, but they were now covered in random patches by Peyton's artwork, and she took notice of the furniture for the first time: the stuff she could see from the doorway had a modern, tasteful feel to it. But she quickly stopped paying attention to architecture and decorations – she was easily distracted from those things by the pair of blondes directly in front of her, in the kitchen. The entire room, and both girls, was covered in cookie dough in various states of preparation, all topped off with a sprinkling of chocolate chips. Both curly-haired blondes were dressed casually, and were facing each other, lost in their own little world as they crooned out disco lyrics into their dough-covered spoons.

The sight of them made Brooke realize how much she'd truly missed her best friend, and it overwhelmed her, throwing her back to a time when things between them had been so easy. "Peyton Sawyer!" she cried out, as though scandalized, her voice ringing out clearly over the upbeat song and stopping both blondes instantly, blushes rising to their cheeks. "Are you listening to _disco_?" Brooke asked with teasing incredulity.

Peyton grinned back at her so earnestly that Brooke actually ached to have back what they'd once been. The very best and the most supportive of friends, despite the cattiness the rest of the world saw sometimes. Deep down, they'd been sisters.

Peyton grabbed a dough-covered stereo remote and used it to turn the music down several decibels. "Hey, Jen," she said breathlessly, "this is my oldest and bestest friend, Brooke Davis," she introduced them, her wide smile still in place. "Brooke, this is my baby girl," she continued, her hand coming to rest lightly on Jenny's shoulder.

Jenny threw Peyton a smile before saying, "Hi, nice to meet you…again. I bet you knew me when I was a baby, too, huh?"

Brooke noticed how Peyton pulled Jenny closer, almost as if she was protecting her from something. "Yeah," she said with a smile. "I did, I hung around when Peyton was babysitting you a couple times. You were the cutest thing ever."

"Thanks," Jenny said, a bit awkwardly.

God, she looked like Peyton. A lot like her, with her thin, contained build and curly blonde locks. It amazed Brooke. There was not a bit of Psycho Bitch Nicki in that kid, and if she was honest with herself, Brooke barely saw any Jake, either. It surprised her, considering what an attentive father she'd known Jake to be. She would've expected Jenny to pick up more from him.

"So listen," Jenny said with an innocent bat of her long eyelashes. "I have a studio date with Haley in like, half an hour, so I'm gonna get cleaned up and go, okay? Sorry I can't help you clean up," she added with wide eyes.

"Brat," Peyton teased fondly, gently pushing her away. "Go to it."

"Thanks, Mom," Jenny said earnestly, leaning in to kiss Peyton's dough-covered cheek before she darted off. She licked her lips, commenting, "Mm, that actually tastes pretty good for raw egg and brown sugar."

"Get lost," Peyton said fondly, watching her go with a sense of affection Brooke recognized well. Peyton looked at Jenny the way she, Brooke, looked at Miranda.

Brooke tentatively stepped into the messy kitchen. "You did good, P. Sawyer," she said softly, nodding in the direction Jenny had gone.

Peyton blushed and looked down at her bare feet. Her toenails were painted aqua blue. "Thanks," she replied, matching Brooke's tone. "For that, and for…everything with Chris and…all of that."

"Hey," Brooke shrugged, wincing at the memory. "Been there, done that, right?"

Peyton made an equally humorous, mortified face, and they both giggled nervously.

Jenny skipped back into the room. She'd rinsed out her hair and pulled it into a messy bun, and she was wearing a navy blue dress over thin leggings. "I'm off," she announced as she slipped a pair of flats onto her feet.

Her mother opened the fridge, pulled out a peach, and tossed it to her. "For the road. You're coming back here, right? What time are you home, babe?"

Jenny shrugged. "I'll let you know?"

Peyton considered it for a moment, giving Jenny a warning look. "Fine," she finally conceded. "Call me…and be safe."

"Always." Jenny gave the promise casually, taking a bite of her peach. "Nice to meet you, Brooke. Later!" she called over her shoulder, slipping out the door.

Peyton gathered up spoons and spatulas and tossed them into the sink.

"Cold peaches?" Brooke couldn't help but ask. That was strange.

Peyton just shrugged. "We had a fruit fly problem in Savannah, so we had to keep everything in the fridge, and it turns out that cold peaches are actually really good in the summer. It's just become habit."

"Oh," Brooke said faintly. She didn't know what to say. It was kind of like walking through a minefield. She had to be very, very careful where she stepped, or Peyton would blow up. Considering what she'd seen after Peyton's tryst with Chris, her friend was as emotionally volatile as she'd ever been. Brooke didn't want to mess up their tentative peace, but they really did need to talk.

"Listen, Brooke…" Peyton began hesitantly, gripping a dishtowel tightly. Apparently, she knew it, too. "I…I'm really sorry. For…God, for everything."

"Peyton…"

"I should never have told that I had feelings for Lucas. I'd let go of him for a long time and encouraged your relationship and…it was a bitchy thing to do," she said carefully. "So I'm sorry."

"You were being honest," Brooke sighed. "I shouldn't have reacted so…crazily. I'd asked you for truth and you gave it to me. I should have trusted you. I regret messing everything up. It was just as much my fault, okay? I never thought that you'd run back to Jake right away."

She saw the way Peyton visibly tensed at Jake's name and immediately tried to steer them back into safer territory. "I wish I could have been a part of your life for the past twelve years, Peyton."

Peyton rinsed out a large bowl, blinking quickly. "Maybe it was partially your fault that we had that big fight, but it was my fault that I cut everyone out. It was stupid, but I was a mess…like always, right? And I just didn't know what else to do. I shouldn't have ignored you when you came to L.A.…that was brave of you, Brooke, and you proved your friendship to me. I just couldn't handle it."

Brooke bit down on her bottom lip. She didn't want to ask, but she had to. "Why not?"

Peyton shook her head as if banishing bad thoughts. "Because of a lot of things."

She grew a little frustrated. She knew things hadn't been easy for Peyton – they never were – but she'd missed her, and there were times when she'd needed her. "I wanted you at my wedding, P. Sawyer. I never dreamed that you wouldn't be there, standing next to me."

Peyton's eyes closed. "Brooke."

"No, why is that such a crazy thing to say? You're my _best friend_. And you always pick other stuff over me! Lucas, then Jake, then your label and then, what? Your pride?"

She was alarmed at the unadulterated emotion clear in the anger that flashed through Peyton's temperamental green eyes. "Don't you dare," she said through clenched teeth. "You have no idea _what_ you're talking about."

"Yeah, and you just admitted it: it's your fault!" Brooke cried, and instantly regretted it. She'd come there to rebuild their friendship, not tear it down again. "Can you…can we…can you let me into your life again?"

When Peyton shook her head, her curls whacked her lightly in the face. "I can't give you details, okay? I don't have an excuse for not coming to your wedding," she said in a choked-up voice. "I wanted to be there, but to be honest with you, I also would have rather been anywhere else in the world. After our fight, considering what we fought about, _who _we fought about…I couldn't do it. I had Jenny to think about. I can't…let you in to the past twelve years. I can't relive all of it. It's done and I don't want to go back. For my sake and for Jenny's."

"And Jake?" Brooke questioned, unable to resist. Where was the boy who'd always made things easier for Peyton and had had an amazing ability to brighten up her broody face?

"Out of my life and in the past," Peyton replied tersely, tossing a cookie sheet into the sink so that it landed with a loud _clang_. She closed her eyes again briefly before she fully faced Brooke. "I just can't go back there. I can't."

"So what does that mean?" Brooke asked desperately. "Yeah, I've been pissed at you, but I missed you. Don't you remember when it was just you and me? We had all those stupid traditions and games and we were just _there_?" She shook her head. "For almost an entire month after Anna died, Peyton, I forgot about the rest of the world. School stopped mattering and even the cute boys didn't mean anything anymore…" she shrugged sadly. "I was just so worried about you, because you were my other half."

Peyton's eyes filled with tears that slipped down her cheeks, over the cookie-dough stains. "I know," she whispered painfully. "And I loved you for it."

Brooke looked at her imploringly. Bringing up Peyton's mom's death may have been a bit of a cheap shot, but it was the only way she could fully get her point across. She remembered that, being so young and so worried that she had to rush over to Peyton's house in the morning and try to coax her to eat Pop Tarts. She could still remember the first day Peyton had smiled after Anna's death. Brooke had arrived at the gloomy Sawyer residence in the early hours of the morning as always to find a depressed Larry Sawyer sitting in the kitchen. She'd skirted by him with a nervous hello and her best comforting grin before dashing upstairs to Peyton. Her best friend's room had been masked in darkness, and Peyton was lying in bed, whimpering as she clutched an old shirt. Brooke had, in a panic, climbed into bed with her and asked what was wrong, and Peyton whispered that her mom's shirt was starting to smell like her own bedding, and that she was scared of forgetting her. Momentarily at a loss for words, Brooke had finally said, "Don't worry. I won't let you. I promise." And instead of bursting into more sobs, Peyton had just given her a small, close-lipped smile and said, "I love you, Brookie," strengthening their already-close friendship even more, to an extent that Brooke had always considered a point of no return. At least, until they stopped being the most important people in each other's lives, when boys entered the picture and somehow, they picked romance over their best friends and ended up breaking each other's hearts instead.

"P., I want back what we had," Brooke confessed quietly.

"I do, too, but we can't have it. Be honest with me, B. Davis…we can't go back to what we were before. You bitch-slapped me. You called me a whore."

Brooke looked down ashamedly.

"And me, I…I never made the effort I should have. Just look at the situation. You can't tell me we can go back to what we had. It was too late years ago, and it's too late now."

"Okay, fine, so maybe things can't be like before." Brooke searched Peyton's eyes, relaxing when she found the hopefulness she'd been searching for. "Maybe we can be better," she said softly. She let her words sink in. "Meet me for coffee tomorrow, Peyton, and let's do it again. I love you always, fake Goldilocks," she said fondly.

"More than time and anger and men and crappy friendship skills can get in the way of?" Peyton asked, raising her eyebrows.

"More than that," Brooke said seriously.

"I want it back so bad," Peyton confessed.

"So let's get it back," she said with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

Peyton cracked her pretty grin. "You always oversimplify…" she muttered, "but I love you always, too," she said with a quick roll of her eyes.

Brooke couldn't speak over the lump in her throat. "Coffee tomorrow," she mouthed, and at Peyton's reassuring nod, slipped out of the apartment.

**A/N**: This chapter was big for me, so throw me a review if you think my art matters. ;) And next chapter, I'm sure, will be big for you, considering two certain tall, broody blondes might find themselves in the same place...and at the same time, no less.


	15. Largo

**A/N**: Your reviews are wicked-awesome. Thank you.

Largo: an Italian musical direction that indicates that the music should be played with a slow, intense build up toward the crescendo

"Sorry I'm late," Peyton said breathlessly as she slipped into the chair across from Brooke.

Her old friend's smile was forced. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Peyton had feared that would be the case. Her reasons for her lack of punctuality were fairly stupid and rather trivial. Firstly, she hadn't known what to wear. For the first time in over a decade, Brooke had seen her. Once, she'd been crying in her pyjamas. The second time, she was in casual clothes and covered in cookie dough. Peyton wanted to prove that she'd actually done something with her life and was capable of pulling herself together.

When she was finally dressed in a short, sleeveless black dress with tiny white polka dots all over it, she rushed downstairs only to find an impromptu CMC meeting going on. She really didn't want to face Chris or Haley, so she had to find some way to leave Tric without encountering them. She'd had to crouch down and sneak behind some stacked tables before clambering out a window. It's taken her a chunk of time to do all of tht, and she ended up being nearly half an hour late to meet Brooke at the small restaurant.

"I meant what I said," Peyton assured her simply. She bit her lower lip. "Do you think this calls for champagne?" she asked Brooke teasingly, even though it was only mid-morning.

The brunette shrugged gamely. "Why not?" She snapped her fingers and a clearly intimidated waiter scuttled over to the table. "Champagne," Brooke ordered. "The best you've got."

"Of course, Mrs. Davis-Scott. Right away."

Peyton arched an eyebrow, determined not to let Brooke's surname affect her. "Do you frequent this place, _Mrs. Davis-Scott_?"

She laughed. "I bring the best of the best here."

Peyton smiled. "Well. Then I'm honoured."

"Should be," Brooke replied with her typical cheeky grin, and Peyton felt them fall into some sense of normalcy.

"Fill me in," she said quietly, asking for everything.

Brooke shrugged. "I don't even know where to begin…"

"Business is booming, right?" Peyton supplied, helping her out. "I see your stuff everywhere."

"Yeah, it's great," she agreed brightly. "It's hectic but it's good. I have this assistant, Millicent, who is a total godsend. She's such a sweetheart. You should meet her."

"Sounds good."

"Oh," Brooke said, as something appeared to occur her. "I guess you don't know…I, um…" she grinned, almost bashfully. "I have a kid."

Peyton's heart stopped for a couple seconds. It'd been painful enough to realize that she'd missed the births of painful enough to realize that she'd missed the births of Nathan and Haley's children, but Brooke's too?

Lucas', too. They had a child. That hit her hard. She hadn't wanted to think that anything could happen with Lucas, but she couldn't lie. It was always this option, this lingering hope for her. She didn't want to cause trouble…it was just there. Any opportunity had been closed off with his marriage, but Peyton wasn't a saint and a smidgen of hope had remained.

But that had a kid. She _wasn't_ a saint, but her heart was too good to hold on to much of that hope after hearing that news. It was the last nail in coffin of her screwed-up love with the boy that always got away.

"Peyton?" Brooke asked worriedly, hoping she hadn't shocked her too much.

She swallowed thickly. "You have a kid," she breathed. "Oh my god. Brooke, that's so amazing," she said honestly. "Do you…I mean, boy or girl? Give me details."

Her smile was proud. "A girl. Miranda. She's five. She's a spoiled brat, but I love her so much. She's a girly-girl and a bit of a bookworm. Lucas is _so_ adorable with her. She's really got him wrapped around her little finger."

"That's sweet," Peyton said softly. "I can't wait to meet her."

"You'll adore her. I know you will. She's every bit the princess I was at her age."

She grinned as the waiter reappeared with their champagne and a basket of neatly sliced baguette. "Bon appêtit, ladies."

Brooke dismissed him with a regal flick of her wrist. Peyton allowed herself a small smile and raised her eyebrows.

"Too good to converse with the commoners, your highness?"

She giggled. "Sorry. But isn't it cute how afraid of me he is?"

"Yeah," Peyton had to agree, watching as Brooke filled their glasses. "Thanks," she added when Brooke finished.

The brunette lifted her glass. "A toast," she proposed. "To the new and improved B. Davis and P. Sawyer."

Peyton drank to that. She set her glass down and placed her elbows on the table, folding her arms in front of her as she leaned toward Brooke. "I thought that was B. Davis-Scott," she said. It took some strength for her to sound as casual and as playful as she did, but she pulled it off. Lucas was Brooke's husband, the father of her child. He had a family that he loved. The sooner Peyton came to terms with that, the better. "You and Luke are doing well?"

"Yeah," Brooke said contentedly, wearing a private smile. "We really are." Her eyes lit up inquisitively. "What about you, P.? How's your romantic life? Other than Keller…"

Peyton groaned. "God, don't remind me. My romantic life is…nonexistent." At Brooke's horrified stare, she rolled her eyes and hastened to add, "I have sex. There's just nothing…serious."

"Not since Jake?" Brooke prodded gently, her lips slipping into a concerned frown. "No one?"

She shrugged. "There was this one guy, a few years ago. He was pretty great. But he started talking about meeting Jenny, and moving in together, and marriage…all this serious commitment. I wasn't ready for that. I broke it off."

"Classic Peyton Sawyer."

"Excuse me?"

Brooke sighed. "I didn't mean anything bad by it, it's jus that…you tend to run away from love sometimes. Being too close to people can scare you off."

"It was different than that," Peyton sighed.

"If you say so."

"Brooke!"

"I just want you to be happy, Peyton. Let yourself fall a little and just see who catches you. Someone who loves you will, I know it."

She shook her head. "I can't live like that. You've always been able to give your heart away with a little less difficulty than I have. What if I do let myself fall…and what if there's no one there?"

Brooke's smile was kindly, tolerantly affectionate, but also mischievous. "Oh, don't worry, honey, there'll be someone there. And I call maid of honour on the day you become P. Keller."

Peyton gasped, her jaw dropping. "Hey, so not funny! I hurt him, and I still feel like shit about it. Must I remind you that _you_, too, slept with Chris Keller once upon a time?"

The brunette quirked her eyebrows. "Yeah, well, you've always had a thing for my leftovers."

Peyton winced. Brooke was comfortable with the joke, sure that the past was safely in the past. For Peyton, the words hit a little too close to home.

Brooke misinterpreted her reaction, and reached across the table to lay a comforting hand on Peyton's arm. "Aw, P. Sawyer, don't worry. There are a million guys out there who would be lucky to have you. You won't be stuck with Chris." Her eyes lit. "You should let me set you up!"

"No," Peyton said forcefully.

"But –"

"_No_."

"But I know someone who would be perf –"

"Brooke Davis!...Scott. No."

Brooke pouted prettily. "Please?"

"Do I need to spell it for you?"

"Fine," the brunette huffed, sitting back in her chair dejectedly. "But let me know if you ever…"

"I will _not_ change my mind. Give it up, B."

Brooke shook her head. "Some things never change," she murmured.

"And some really do," Peyton sighed, too quietly for Brooke to hear. Her eyes ached from tiredness and the tears she no longer deserved to shed over a boy that was so very far from ever belonging to her.

"You okay?" her friend asked.

Peyton buried her regrets and smiled gratefully, happily amazed that Brooke could still pick up on her moods so easily. "Fine. I'm fine." She was thankful to have her back. "I missed you," she said.

Brooke nodded understandingly, wearing her own watery smile. "Yeah. Me, too. It's been too long. Never again, right?"

Peyton's smile grew rueful. Brooke had no idea how many situations her words applied to. "Never again," she agreed, in nothing more than a whisper.

* * *

Jenny beat Haley to the studio that morning, early for their appointment. While she waited, she sat in a swiveling chair and listened to Ryanna and her mentor sing together. Ryanna actually embraced her mentor's criticisms, and her singing was phenomenal.

Okay, so she sad a fantastic voice. But Jenny had some great guitar skills, not to mention a fair bit of talent when it came to the piano, and a pretty sweet voice. And she had the guy. She was pretty sure that she had won. It was one of those days when nothing could throw off her happiness.

Haley breezed in right on time, as casually fabulous as always in a bright red dress, Jamie trailing reluctantly behind her. "Hey, rocker chick," she sang out as she set down her to-go coffee cup and two thick bingers.

"Mom, can I go now?" Jamie asked impatiently.

"Oh, sorry, baby –"

"_Mom_."

Jenny grinned. "It's okay, Jamie. My mom still calls me _baby_ all the time, too."

He grinned back shyly and Jenny bit her lip to keep from giggling.

"Alright, _J. Luke_. Who're you meeting again?"

"Aiden and Natasha."

"What time are you going to be home?" Haley quizzed, shooting him a serious look as she flipped through one of her binders at a fast pace.

"By five."

"Okay. Daddy'll be there when you get home, then. _Promise_ me you'll give one of us a call if you're going to be late."

"I will," he promise, his eyes honest.

"I love you, baby boy, you know that?"

"Yeah," Jamie sighed, feigning exasperation.

Haley smiled. "Fun is fine –"

"As long as I'm care. I know, Mom. I love you, too. Bye, Jenny."

She waved as he slipped out the door.

"He's absolutely in love with you, Jen," Haley laughed. "My boy has good taste."

She blushed. "Thank you." She nodded to the binders. "What's all that?"

"Just some notes for you."

Her eyes widened. "_Just_ some notes?"

Haley grinned at her. "Nothing terrifying, I promise. It's all helpful. You are going to be so _awesome_, I can feel it. And I'm never wrong." She tilted her head to the side, withholding the binder. "Hey, honey…how're things with your mom?"

Jenny could feel her big smile lighting up her face. "Really good. Everything's going to be okay now. You don't have to worry."

Haley handed over the heavy binder. "I'd love to believe that," she murmured sadly.

Jenny looked up at her, alarmed. "Why don't you?"

Her mentor's smile was gentle, but forced. "I'm sorry, girlie…never mind. I love your mom. There's just…there's history, and hurting and…it's just a little hard."

She sighed, irritated. "I'm guessing you're not going to explain any of that, either."

Haley just looked at her, sympathetic but unyielding. "Open that up and have a read. Let's do this thing, alright? It's going to be amazing."

* * *

Lucas closed his eyes, letting the sun's rays beat down on his face. He was _almost_ too hot, but not quite there yet, and it was a good feeling.

He and Lindsay were lounging on Adirondack chairs on the roof of the eight-story building that housed the offices of the publishing group she worked for. He enjoyed spending time with Lindsay as friends rather than author and editor. Brooke insisted that Lindsay had a crush on him, but he didn't believe that. They were friends, nothing more. They just happened to have reached a point of ultimate comfort. When Lindsay wasn't nagging him, he felt as though he was taking a quick vacation from everyday life. It was a break in which everything just seemed so easy and relaxing. And as a bonus, Lindsay could recognize his emotions and thoughts more easily than he himself could, so he always left feeling a little clearer about things.

"You look calm. Untroubled."

Lucas smiled without opening his eyes. "But you're going to trouble me, aren't you?"

"I just need honesty from you, Lucas. You need to tell me if you can write another novel. And if you can, you _need_ to start meeting some deadlines."

"I know," he replied quietly, squinting as he opened his eyes.

"I want this for you – for both of us – so badly, but I can only do so much. Be straight with me, Luke. What's the verdict?"

Lucas sat upright, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Listen, Linds…I've been thinking about what you said, about seeking out my inspiration again."

She lifted her eyebrows, silently asking _And_?

"And you were right. As always," he added with a playful roll of his eyes. "I don't know what it is, but when I find it again, it'll click. And I feel like it's right where I've never thought to look. I think I'll find it at home."

Lindsay nodded sagely. "If you think that…and if you really _feel_ it…then you'll find it there."

He chanced a small smile and cautiously asked, "What're you saying?"

"_Two weeks_, Luke. That's all I can buy, okay? At the end of those weeks, you have _got_ to give me _something_."

"I hope I'll be able to," he sighed.

"Me, too," she agreed, a bit sadly.

"Hey. Linds. No matter what…you'll always be a big part of me. You had faith in my book when no one else did."

She rewarded his words with a gentle smile. "Your book _deserved_ it. Now go home, find that elusive muse of yours, and write another. I don't want this to come to goodbye. But if it does…your book was my first; you'll always be a big part of me, too."

"Thank you, Lindsay. For everything."

"Don't let me down, Luke."

He nodded. "Y'know…something makes me think I really won't."

* * *

"Mo-om! You here?"

"My room!" Peyton called back, wiping pale green paint off of her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt.

Jenny appeared in the doorway, wearing a bright smile that automatically made the corners of Peyton's lips tug up as well.

"Hey, sweet thing," Peyton greeted her daughter fondly, teasingly. "What do you think?" she asked, pointing over her shoulder at the painting she'd just done on her wall.

"It's gorgeous," Jenny said earnestly. "All ethereal fairyland. A little more lighthearted than I'd ever expect from you…"

"Brat," she reprimanded her daughter lightly.

"But it's beautiful, Mom, seriously. Did you have fun at lunch with Brooke?"

She shrugged. "I have a good time, yeah…such a good time that I'm going to take what you just said as a compliment," she added, dipping her fingertips into the paint and flicking it at her daughter. "But never mind me – look at you, all smiles. Does that happiness come from your music…or from you boy?" she asked slyly.

"What boy?" Jenny demanded quickly, her cheeks pink.

Peyton chuckled. "Please, Jenny. You underestimate me. Now tell me the dirt." She wiped the paint off of her fingers and sat down at the foot of her bed, patting the space next to her.

Jenny bounced over to join her. "I had an _awesome_ day at the studio. Haley's so amazing and helpful, and kind and funny…"

"I know Haley, sweetie," Peyton said with a smirk, "and I don't need a rundown of her personality traits. I'm glad you two have hit it off, and I'm glad that you're making progress with your music. I'm very proud of you, Jen. Now are you going to tell me about the guy or what?"

The fourteen-year-old tapped her feet impatiently. "I don't feel like talking right now; I want to move. I have all this extra energy."

"I see that. Okay. Just give me ten seconds of your attention, please?"

Jenny nodded, sitting still, though energy still radiated off of her.

"What's his name?"

"Jordan Lynd."

"How old is he?"

"Seventeen."

Peyton made a face at the age difference, but decided to let it go for the time being. If Jenny was anything like her father – and she definitely was – she possessed a kind of infinite maturity. "He's good to you?"

"We aren't dating or anything, Mom," Jenny corrected her bashfully.

"But he's a good guy?"

"Yeah."

"Baby, I trust you and your judgments but be careful, okay? Love is wonderful, but you're still a kid, and it can hurt. Give yourself time for all of that."

"I know. I will," Jenny assured her softly.

"Okay, you spaz," Peyton said with a light laugh, ending the conversation. "What do you want to do?"

Jenny bit down on her lower lip, her eyes sparkling. "Get changed, okay? Active stuff. I want us to go somewhere."

* * *

"Hey, how'd you find this place?"

Jenny looked over at her mother, smiling at the wonderment she saw in Peyton's eyes. Peyton looked particularly alive that night, and Jenny understood the feeling. It was good, it was nice, it was freeing.

"I ran here the other night and just kind of stumbled across it," she explained. "And Jordan and I have hung out here a couple times. Did you not know about it or something?"

Peyton's eyes were far away. "The total opposite. This place had a lot of meaning for my friends and I back in high school." She paused. "I'm glad you found it, Jen. It seems right for you to be here."

She grinned at the praise. "Thanks. I love that it's right on the river. It feels…grounded. I feel like I belong here somehow."

Her mother's arms wrapped around her from behind. She felt Peyton's lips press against the crown of her head. "You do," she said firmly. "You belong." She snatched the basketball out of Jenny's hands and attempted to twirl it on a single finger. She giggled when she failed. "So, what…did you bring me here to kick my ass in a game?"

Jenny giggled, too, putting on her most innocent face. "Not specifically…but since you're offering…"

Peyton took a shot, and amazing, actually made the basket. "Oh!" she cheered, lifting her arms in triumph.

"Fluke!" Jenny declared immediately.

Her mom caught her rebound, laughing. "Game on, babe."

* * *

Lucas threw his bag into the back of his car. Everything seemed crystal clear to him again, but he wasn't entirely sure what _everything_ was, and he felt restless. He missed his family, but he wasn't ready to go home. He felt refreshed, but he didn't yet have the courage to sit down and attempt to write again. A trip to the river court was what he needed, he thought. To let out his stress, and to allow him some time to revel in his own clarity.

It was late enough that the roads were free of traffic, and he coasted to the court without setting eyes on another soul. He parked in a nearby cluster of trees and grabbed the basketball he always kept in the backseat.

Through the branches of the trees, he saw the court already had light streaming down noto it. He frowned, wondering who could be invading his sacred space so late at night. Girlish giggles found their way to his ears, and he groaned internally. He didn't want to have to encounter high school jerks messing around to impress their girlfriends.

He ventured to the court all the same, and was surprised by what he found. A pair of blondes engaged in a playful game of ball, laughing as they tried to steal that ball from one another with little success. There was something eerily familiar about them both, and he froze.

The younger one of the two was facing him, and she halted as they made eye contact, scowling in confusion. Something about her eyes struck Lucas powerfully as some sort of blast from the past.

The taller of the two's laugher faded, but her amusement was still clear in her voice as she gently asked, "What?" and whirled around, brushing her hair out of her face. Her expression fell into something indefinable when she saw _what_.

Lucas suspected that his face did the same. He swore he stopped breathing for a moment.

Peyton Sawyer stood in front of him.

Peyton Sawyer.

The years had been more than kind to her. She was as, if not more, beautiful than she'd been when he used to know her. Her green eyes twinkled enticingly at him from within her slightly sweaty face, full of surprise and hesitant happiness. Her hair was longer, a little less curly, but he was sure it still would have felt as good to run his fingers through the blonde strands. She was wearing a soft-looking purple sweater that he wanted to reach out and touch, to tug her over to him gently by her clothing. From beneath her black shorts, her legs went on forever, just as appealing to Lucas as they'd ever been.

He wanted to speak, but both his heart and mind were too full. He was feeling too much. He had too much to say.

So it was Peyton who broke the thick silence, with a disbelieving, emotion-packed whisper.

"Luke," she breathed.

That single sweet syllable floated through the air until it settled on Lucas' lips, and he couldn't believe how long it had been since he had tasted something so very good.

**A/N:**Okay, so I lead you on and cheated and stuck it in at the _very_ end of the chapter...but next time there will be honest-to-god L/P, and lots of it. Review please!


	16. Accelerando

**A/N:** Here it is, for real. Reviews rock.

Accelerando: the term that directs an increasing speed in the performance of the piece of music it is applied to

Neither of them was sure of how much time passed as they stood there, searching each other's eyes. She was nervous and heartsick; she could feel her heart palpitating wildly in her chest. But even though she was gasping for breath, Peyton would have stayed there, like that, until the end of the world.

Because in that moment, Lucas Scott was hers again. His eyes, his mind, his heart…she could physically _feel_ her grasp on all of those things. As they stood there on the river court, he was just the boy who'd looked at her with triumph, intrigue, and undisguised yearning on that same tarmac surface all those years ago. Just the boy she'd literally _fallen_ in love with, falling from her place in the social hierarchy as a bitchy cheerleader, out from behind the countless walls she'd built up around herself, and into the arms of someone who finally understood enough about her to truly save her. Just for those seconds, however long their intense eye contact lasted, Lucas Scott belonged to no one but her.

But it ended, of course it did. The world found them again in the form of Jenny, who broke the peace by piping up, "Um…do you two need some space? Because you look like you're going to start throwing punches or making out, and both of those would be awkward for me."

Peyton blushed, feeling extra heat in her body from the sheer force of his proximity. She had enough hurt and longing built up inside of her that she wouldn't have minding slapping him a couple times, but she would rather have pulled him to her by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him until the world faded away, into some place where it could no longer touch them and ruin them as it always did.

Despite her embarrassment, Peyton caught Lucas' small confused grin at Jenny's words and relaxed the slightest bit. At least he didn't appear at all confrontational. Still, she would have killed to have known what was going on in the moody mind of his. The thumping in her chest didn't relent at all.

"Sorry, babe," she said automatically to Jenny, placing her hand lightly on her daughter's arm. "Um…" This was entirely awkward, especially considering what had transpired between the two adults the last time they'd met, and the incorrect conclusions Peyton knew Luke had drawn. Lucas didn't recognize Jenny – with good reason, he hadn't seen her in thirteen years – but he'd undoubtedly know her by name. And Jenny just might recall his name as well, from when it was brought up at the dinner they'd had at Nathan and Haley's.

"Jenny," she said softly, looking away from him. She didn't want to see the surprise in Luke's eyes when he realized who the girl who she'd raised was. She didn't want to see the realization that he'd made a mistake. He had made a mistake…but one of a much different nature than he thought. "Jenny," she repeated, her voice gaining a little bit of strength. The introduction had to be made, so she was going to make it short and sweet. _Rip off the bandaid_, she told herself, but she'd never really believed that. Taking the bandaid off slowly always seemed to hurt less.

"Jenny," she said, one last time before she finally got it out. "I'd like you to meet Lucas Scott. Luke, this is Jenny."

Lucas' eyes flashed as they bore into hers, frantically grasping for answers, but she didn't read into his emotions. It was an act of self-preservation. If she looked too deep into his blue orbs and saw all that looked there, she'd probably cry.

He cleared his throat, and Peyton could tell that the cheer in his voice was forced. "Jenny Jagielski," he remarked, to tell Peyton that he knew exactly who she was and what her presence meant.

_But you don't_! She screamed at him internally. He didn't understand, and she couldn't just blurt it out. She missed the man who could read her like an open book. But years had taken that ability away, and if she was going to tell him, it would have to be with words. She wasn't ready for that. The timing was so messed up.

"Nice to meet you," Lucas continued bravely, and Peyton's heart went out to him as it broke for them both.

"You, too," Jenny replied evenly. "I'm guessing that _you_ also knew me when I was a baby," she added, trying to make simple conversation.

Lucas nodded. Everything about his answer was matter-of-fact. "I did."

"Are you related to Nathan and Haley?" she inquired innocently.

Peyton knew that she was trying to ease that awkwardness of the atmosphere, and loved her for it, though it wasn't helping at all. "Yeah," she answered for Lucas, plastering on a smile. "And he's Brooke's husband. Good looking family, huh?" she joked desperately.

His eyes were panicked, full of quick calculations. He stuck his free hand, the one not holding his basketball, into his pocket, a classic Lucas Scott pose. "How long have you been here?" he demanded, his voice packed with intensity.

"A few days," she answered softly. And then it dawned on her. "Oh," she gasped, several things clicking into place in her mind. "Y-you…you didn't know."

"_No_, I didn't. Nathan…and Haley and _Brooke_…they've all known? The whole time?"

"Don't be mad at them, Luke," she whispered, knowing that her voice would carry the through the still quiet that surrounded them. She'd caused enough grief for Nathan and Haley, and while she wanted to be pissed off at Brooke for keeping her presence a secret from Brooke, she really couldn't be. What information Brooke withheld within her own relationship with her husband was her business and hers alone, even if she did owe him the knowledge.

"How…what…" he spluttered, unable to form a full sentence.

"Jen's here for music camp…Chris' camp. Haley's her mentor. She's living with them, Nathan and Haley and their boys. And I…" _I came to protect my daughter from my history. Including you. Mostly you._ "I just thought it was time to come home," she lied.

"And you're talked to Brooke? You've _seen_ Brooke?"

She nodded reluctantly, knowing that it would only fuel his rage. Jenny, on her right, looked immensely confused.

"_Dammit_. It's you. You're it."

"I'm what?" she asked softly.

"You're what she's been hiding from me, what she's been all secret about, who she's been sneaking off to see, who she's been with while she said she was at work. And she had the nerve to make stupid jokes about having affairs and excuses about Haley needing girl talk…" He ran a hand through his hair. "How is it possible that she's still that fucking insecure about our relationship?"

Peyton swallowed thickly before she answered the question she knew he'd meant to be rhetorical. "It's her right as your wife, Luke. We both know that…it's not like…there actually _is_ anything for her to worry about so just…let it go."

He looked at her so deeply, so intimately, his eyes seeking out her soul. "Oh, Peyton…" he said huskily, a quiet lament for everything they could have had, and she was thrown so forcefully into the past that she couldn't catch her breath.

She slid her hand down Jenny's arm until she was grasping her daughter's wrist. "We should go. We have to go." She started back toward Tric, pulling Jenny after her.

"Peyton!"

She paused, turned, and shot him a bittersweet smile. "I'm here all summer long," she said simply. She didn't want him to think that this was another painful goodbye. She would probably avoid him, because he scared her, how powerfully she could feel about him…it scared her. But she would be there. For the next seven weeks. In that town. He needed to know that. "So, I…" She wanted to tell him that she'd be seeing him, but she couldn't belittle those words, words that had meant absolutely everything when they'd first been spoken. Words that had started the story of Lucas and Peyton, a story that had lots of partings but never a firm ending.

But she didn't need to say anything. Lucas had not lost all of his ability to understand her thoughts before she even had to but them into words. He frowned, but his lips twitched up into a smile for just a second. "Okay," he said with a nod. "Okay."

* * *

Brooke was lying in bed, flipping through the latest issue of _InStyle_ as her eyes began to close. She was very comfy, nestled into her fluffy pillows, and just about ready to give in to sleep when she heard the unmistakable noise of someone jiggling the sticky back doorknob. She sat up a bit, suddenly wide awake and on alert. Miranda had been particularly clingy since Lucas' departure, and was currently snuggled under the duvet next to Brooke, sleeping peacefully. While she normally would have groaned about Miranda's tendency to flop around in her sleep, she was thankful to have her baby girl in the room, where she knew she was safe.

She heard the noise again and shivered, her mind racing. Was she being paranoid? Should she call 911? Should she go and investigate? More than anything, she wanted her husband.

The downstairs door opened and she jumped. She darted out of bed, tiptoeing across the floor to close and lock her bedroom door. She rushed back toward the bed, fumbling for the phone. She needed to call the police. She could hear footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Shit," she breathed, horrified, hitting the wrong buttons with her trembling fingers.

"Mommy?" Miranda murmured, bleary-eyed and bedheaded as she sat up.

"Hey, honey," she whispered, struggling to stay calm. "You stay quiet for me, okay? Not a sound. I'll buy you toys tomorrow."

She returned her attention to the phone, dialling nine, one…

There was a knock on her door that made her jump a foot in the air. "Brooke?" her husband's voice asked.

She dropped the phone and sighed in relief, hurrying over to the door and flinging it open. "Luke! You scared the hell out of me! I was calling the police. She sighed again and smiled slightly. "You're back early. How were your meetings?"

There was something off about him; he seemed closed off to her, as though he was keeping her out. "We need to talk," he said solemnly.

She frowned. "Lucas…"

He looked over her shoulder to where Mira laid on the bed. "Hey, princess, you're sleeping with Mommy tonight, huh?"

Miranda nodded, smiling sleepily.

"Well, you go back to sleep, baby girl. Mommy and I are going to go talk for a little bit. I love you. I'll see you in the morning."

Miranda just nodded, and both of her parents stayed frozen in place, momentarily distracted from their issues by their daughter's uncharacteristic silence.

"Mira, tell your daddy you love him, too," Brooke coaxed her.

"You said not to talk."

Brooke smiled despite the anger she could feel radiating from her husband. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. You're allowed to talk now."

Miranda walked across the bed, unsteady due to her sleepiness, and threw herself into Lucas arms. "I love you, too, Daddy."

He felt her tight, kissing the top of her head, before he laid her back down on the mattress and tucked her in again. "Sweet dreams, sweet girl," he whispered to her, before standing upright again and ushering Brooke out of the room.

She followed him downstairs and into the living room, where he sat on the couch and waited for her to join him. When she did, he cleared his throat and said, "This is your last chance to tell me what's been going on. I want the truth."

Brooke hesitated. She hadn't thought he was coming back for days. She wanted more time to clear the air with Peyton first. She wasn't ready to tell him yet. "Lucas, what is this? Did you just come back to yell at me?"

"You're stalling," he said quietly, staring at her intensely.

Brooke gasped. It didn't matter whether or not she was ready to tell Lucas that Peyton and Jenny were back. Years being Lucas Scott's wife had taught her how to read him, at least a bit, and she knew…she knew that he knew.

She lifted her chin. "Why're you asking me if you already know?"

"Because you should have told me days ago!"

Brooke shook her head, standing up and walking away so that he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. He was upset. He was upset that Peyton was back and that she hadn't told him. That meant something. "You're just bitter because you two have history," she said hoarsely. "What would you have done if I had told you, Luke? Run back to her like you always do?"

"I cannot believe you. How can you possibly –"

"How can _I?_ How can _you_?" she cried, whirling around to face him. "I cannot believe you're making a big deal of this. That means something, do you understand that? As your wife, that means something to me, that you're making a big deal of this."

"Brooke…"

"It means that there's still something there," she choked out.

"Brooke, _no_. I love you. I married you. I picked _you_. Nobody here is seventeen anymore, and Peyton and I certainly don't have the same feelings for each other that we did then. Do you know why it's a big deal? Because you made it one. By not telling me, you made it something big, because you made it clear that you were afraid for me to find out."

"Do you hear yourself?" Brooke whispered. _Peyton and I certainly don't have the same feelings for each other that we did then. _

"What?" he asked defensively.

"So you and Peyton don't have the _same _feelings for each other that you did back then. What kind of feelings _do_ you have then, Lucas, huh?" she demanded harshly.

"How can you even _ask_ me that? She's my friend. I'd like to believe that she's still my friend, just like I'm sure you hope she's still yours."

"She _is_ still my friend. We've talked. We had coffee…well, it was champagne, but that's beside the point. So much has happened, Luke, and I want to trust her again. I want to trust you. But history has shown that there is no such thing as friendship between you two."

"Exes can be friends, Brooke. Peyton and I didn't even date for all that long. It wasn't even _dating_. Nathan and Peyton were in a relationship for nearly two years, and they became friends easily."

"_Such_ a different story," Brooke informed him, shaking her head. "To become friends, all Nathan and Peyton had to do was cut out the bitching and sex. It wasn't exactly the world's most difficult task. You and Peyton…you two had all this emotional bonding happening, I mean…God, Lucas, you lusted after her all through junior high and on! You have this build up of years you spent in love with Peyton!"

"As a kid. From afar. That's over; like you said, it's _history._ And now I have years built up of _marriage_ to you."

"You know…senior year? When she disappeared?"

He nodded, frowning in confusion.

Brooke sighed. She had never told a single soul about her confrontation with Peyton before Peyton split to go be with Jake, but she guessed that now that her old friend was back, it had to be put out there. And she needed to tell Lucas to make her point, to make him understand that she did have lingering reason to be afraid of that cosmic pull between her two favourite broody people in the world. "She came back from her weekend in Savannah a mess. Her head was all over the place, but she never told me what happened. I was worried, but I didn't have time to figure it out. Haley hated her wedding dress and I had to make a new one, I was trying to organize the entire party, people were getting sick…and I was excited about seeing you. I figured that I would deal with Peyton afterward. I thought we'd have more time."

"I don't understand where you're going with this…" Lucas said.

"You did that scene with her, do you remember that? The Naley I-love-you scene, the one in bed. She cried, do you remember that? When you told her you loved her, she cried. I thought she was acting well, or maybe in the back of my mind I worried that she was still upset about Jake, but it didn't mean anything until I found her afterward, and she was still crying. Everything was over, Haley was happy, I had you back…I thought it was time to talk. And then out of the blue…do you know what she says to me?" Brooke swallowed hard. "_Brooke, I think I still have feelings for Lucas_. I don't remember what I said after that…probably something about your friendship and she said _More than that_."

* * *

Lucas' head was spinning. He remembered that night, he did; it was an important event in the lives of his brother and best friend. He remembered seeing the unadulterated sadness in Peyton's eyes, how lost and in need of a hug she had looked when she whispered that she loved him, too. Brooke had hurried him off to some other activity afterward, but he'd made a mental note to check in with Peyton. Something was off, that much he knew, and he was worried about her. Like Brooke, he thought they'd have more time…but he never got the chance to say another word to her.

Brooke stared at him, taking in his stunned expression. "Yeah," she said bitterly. "Exactly. I slept in my car that night, and in the morning we got into a really bad fight. She said she was sorry for loving you, and that she'd bury it, but I couldn't accept that. She wouldn't bury it. We'd been through that cycle before. I…" She bit her lip, looking ashamed. "I flipped. I slapped her and called her a bitch and took off. At the wedding, she asked me if I loved you, and I couldn't believe that she would ask me something like that, she had no right to. Then the accident happened and everything went to hell and…when I went back to her house, to get the rest of my stuff…most of her things were gone. She was gone."

Lucas couldn't believe it. He wondered, fleetingly, what would have happened in his life had Peyton stayed, had she ever told him how she felt. He loved her, cared about her…but at that time in his life he'd been sure that he was honestly, fully, one hundred percent madly in love with Brooke. He looked back up at his wife's face, which was full of expectation as she waited for his reply. "That was so long ago," he said quietly. "Peyton…went to Jake."

Brooke's face crumpled, a couple tears escaping her eyes. "And if she hadn't…if she hadn't, Luke, what then?"

He felt horrible for making her cry, and stood, reaching out to her. She tried to back away, resisting his touch, but quickly gave in and curled up vulnerably within his comforting embrace. He kissed her forehead, "Then I still would have married you, because I loved you then and I love you now."

He did love Brooke, very much, but he had just told one of the worst lies of his life. There had been a point, nearly eight years ago, when everything could have changed. And it was for that reason that he couldn't honestly say that, had Peyton stayed, he would have been with Brooke forever.

* * *

Haley couldn't sleep. She felt restless. A sense of newness, or difference, was in the air, and it disrupted her peace.

She tiptoed into Nick and Noah's bedroom to watch her six-year-olds sleep. She loved watching her own children slumber; it gave her a sense of protection, and they were just so angelic with their eyes closed and their chests rising and falling steadily, contented expressions on their perfect faces.

When Sebastian woke up, she held him and comforted him, making him giggle to calm his tears before she settled him back into his crib and sang him to sleep. Over the years, she'd discovered that her part of the duet she'd once done with Chris Keller, _When the Stars Go Blue_, was the best lullaby for her children. It was a crazy little quirk that Nathan playfully pretended to find annoying. He'd once teased her, asking if the kids were really his after all, and she'd shot back with the quick reply of, "Nope, Lucas'," pointing to Jamie, who was basically his uncle's clone.

After her youngest child was sound asleep again, she walked back into the master bedroom. She watched Nathan sleep for a few minutes, feeling like an infatuated teenager as she studied him. It was then that her insomnia started to frustrate her, and she shook his shoulder to wake him. "Nathan. _Nathan._ Wake up."

"Hales?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes and sitting up a bit. "What is it?" he asked immediately. "Are you okay? Are the kids okay?"

"We're all fine," she said impatiently.

"Nathan, do you _feel_ that?"

He squinted at her in confusion. "Is this some sort of dirty talk I'm just not catching?"

She hit his arm. "No, you idiot. In…the atmosphere. The…universe. Am I crazy? Please tell me you feel that."

"Sorry, babe, you are crazy," he said, flopping back down and closing his eyes again. "What exactly do you think you feel?"

Haley shook her head, annoyed that he couldn't sense it as well. "Things…aren't going to be the same," she said cryptically, staring out the window at the starless sky and the shiny crescent moon, feeling remarkably insignificant and yet strangely whole.

She looked back at her husband for a response, but he was fast asleep.

* * *

Jenny watched as her mother flopped down onto the couch, pulling a throw pillow into her arms and burying her face in it. She sat down next to Peyton so that they were shoulder-to-shoulder. "So, um…recent experience has kind of told me that you're not about to explain that whole thing."

Peyton peeked out from behind the pillow, looking younger than she generally did. "What whole thing?" she asked weakly.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "_Mom_."

Her mother sighed, dropping the pillow. "Oh, Jen, I'm sorry," she said sadly, resting a hand on Jenny's bare knee and giving it a squeeze. "It really was so long ago that none of it matters. Lucas and I have a bit of a past."

Jenny lifted her eyebrows, giving Peyton a sceptical look. She suspected that that was a bit of an understatement. "Please. The sexual tension between you two was pretty intense."

Peyton sighed heavily, wincing. "I'm going start counting how many times you say 'sex' everyday." She knocked on Jenny's head lightly. "I cannot believe my fourteen-year-old has such a one-track mind."

She giggled. "Come on, I don't. And seriously, Mom…I have trouble believing that _none of it matters_ now. It looked like it mattered. A lot."

"Jennifer Lynn…" Peyton threatened, but there was amusement in her voice.

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "He could _not_ take his eyes off your legs." She said it like a piece of gossip, but it was a fact.

Peyton looked at her incredulously. "Okay, young lady, this conversation is over." She wrapped an arm around Jenny to pull her into a hug and dropped a kiss on top of her head. "Sweet dreams, baby," she added, standing up and walking toward her room.

Jenny shook her head at her mother's evasive behaviour. "I'm still gonna be here when you come out in the morning, you know that, right?"

Her mother poked her head back out of her room and gave her a serious look before dropping one eyelid in a wink. "Counting on it."

"Hey, Mom?" Jenny called again just before Peyton's door closed.

"What's up, sweetie?"

"You look happy," she observed pointedly.

Peyton rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "That's all you, Jen. How many times have I told you that you're the one and only love of my life?"

Jenny rolled her eyes right back. "Look, Mom, I just want to say…I'm sorry if being back here is hard on you."

"Aw, babe, thank you…but that's not necessary. The longer I'm here…the more I realize that I had to come back eventually, and now's not really the worst time."

"Because of the guy?"

Peyton leaned against the doorframe, blinking innocently. "What guy?"

"The guy who looked ready to get _I heart Peyton_ tattooed over every inch of his body."

Her mother's tone was soft and serious when she replied: "The same guy who is married to my old best friend." She smiled again, blowing Jenny a kiss. "Sleep tight, you nosy brat. I love you."

"You, too."

After Peyton's door closed, Jenny stretched out on the couch, still in her activewear and a little bit sweaty. She stared up at the ceiling, lazily trying to analyze everything in her head. She wondered if she'd be able to get Haley or Nathan to reveal some of her mother's history with Lucas.

She was drifting off to sleep, too lazy to get up and change. She'd just be sure not to look in the mirror before she dove into the shower the next morning.

Her mind went back to the subject of Lucas. The thought of her mother's heart belonging to anyone but her father was an uncomfortable and somewhat scary idea, but Jenny knew that she couldn't change the past. She did know one thing, and it was the last thought that entered her mind before she fell into dreamland.

It was certainly possible to change the future, and change had undoubtedly entered their world that night, in the form of a guy who had clearly at some point been smitten with her mother…and who was pretty damn hot.

**A/N:** And so it begins...


	17. Melodrama

**A/N:** Thank you as always for your reviews, they really do mean a lot; I'm glad you're still reading.

Melodrama: a blanket term for dramatic events, particularly within soap operas, that are accompanied by appropriately intense or suspenseful music

"Hello?" Haley called, stepping through the door of the impressive house Brooke and Lucas resided in. She hadn't been able to get to sleep, so she'd crawled out of bed at the crack of dawn to make muffins. When the sun rose and it was still obvious that none of her family members were going to be waking up anytime soon, she packed up some muffins and trekked over to the 'Second Scott' residence for some girl talk with Brooke and some quality time with Miranda.

To her surprise, when she arrived, Brooke and Lucas were sitting on opposite sides of the couch in the living room, drinking coffee out of large mugs. Lucas was wearing pants and an unbuttoned button-down shirt, while Brooke had thrown a robe on over her pyjamas. They both looked tired and sad.

"Hey, Brucas," she greeted them collectively, trying to lighten the somewhat ominous atmosphere.

"Hey, one half Naley," Brooke replied, mustering up some pep. "Whatcha got there?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I made muffins. I thought I'd bring you some breakfast." She unwound the light scarf she'd thrown around her neck and sat down. "But it looks like I wasn't the only one up all night. I thought you weren't getting back for two more days, Luke."

"I wasn't," he said stiffly.

"Okay, well…are you writing again? What did Lindsay say?"

"I have…some stuff to work on."

Haley frowned at his vague coldness. She looked over at Brooke for some kind of explanation and saw that the brunette appeared on the verge of tears.

Haley shot Lucas a glare, but he was avoiding her eyes. "Hey," she said sharply, snapping her fingers like she did when she was trying to get the attention of a particularly rebellious student. "Look at me. What's with the attitude?" She sounded like she was talking to a troubled high school kid, too.

He fixed her with an unwavering stare. "Thanks for telling me that Peyton's in town."

She was struck speechless for a moment. Her first thought was _Shit. He knows_. Then she contemplated it for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, and then thought _Wait. So what if he knows_?

"Luke," she scolded him sternly. "_Tell_ me that's not what you're upset about. What are you, seventeen again?"

Brooke threw Lucas a look as if to say _See?_

He leaned forward, scowling. "You are both reading something into this that _isn't there_. Peyton is my friend, just like she's yours, and we haven't seen her in _years_. She's been back for almost a week. Brooke hid it from me, and you didn't bother to inform me. Hales, I'd be just as upset if you disappeared for a decade, reappeared, and no one told me."

Haley blew out her breath. "I guess you have a point."

"Fill me in. Please."

"Brooke hasn't already?"

"We've been too busy bickering," Brooke interjected angrily.

Haley offered a sympathetic half-smile. "You know I'm doing Chris' music camp, right? I'm mentoring Jenny. I showed up at the airport to pick her up…and there was Peyton. They've been…through a lot since they got here. Peyton's kept a lot of drama hidden from Jenny and coming back home just brought it to light. It's been hard," she added in a whisper. "Peyton and I actually aren't speaking right now."

"Why?" Brooke and Lucas asked in unison.

"Just…Jenny thought Peyton was her birth mother all these years. And when my idiot of a husband," she joked, affectionately frustrated, "let it slip that she's not, Jenny was so devastated, and they kept on fighting…eventually I just kind of flipped out."

"Is it that bad?"

Haley's anger flared up again. "She was hurting her daughter, and she won't _talk_ to me. She _still_ won't tell me anything about Jake!"

Lucas squinted. "What do you mean?"

"Jake is out of her life. She won't say any more than that, she refuses to."

Lucas sat back, stunned. "She's not with Jake anymore."

"Hasn't been in a serious, long-term relationship since," Brooke reported. "Aren't you happy, honey?" she chirped, bitterly sarcastic. "She's fair game for you."

"Brooke," Lucas sighed tiredly, reaching over and resting a hand on her knee as he raised his eyebrows, indicating his frustration.

She lifted her hands in surrender, and let his hand stay on her knee.

"It's not a big deal," Haley said gently. "It doesn't have to be a big deal."

"What doesn't?" Brooke asked, her brow furrowing.

Haley shrugged helplessly. "Everything?" She popped the lid off of her container and extended it to them. "Let's eat. Okay?"

Brooke accepted one of the muffins, but held it instead of taking a bite. "You're the smartest person I know, tutor mom," she said quietly, the hand that was not occupied with her muffin resting tentatively over her husband's. "So you've got to know that nothing is ever that simple with us."

* * *

"Jennifer Lynn, I swear to God, if I have to listen to that song one more time…" Peyton said, trailing off threateningly as she regarded her daughter across the room.

"_Just dance_; _spin that record, babe_," Jenny sang out teasingly, grabbing the remote to crank the volume up.

"Do not make me take that away from you," Peyton replied, gazing at the remote.

"Come on, Mom, it's so catchy!"

"Sounds like something Brooke would listen to," Peyton mumbled. "Let me guess, it's on the radio like, every two seconds, right?"

"Good songs get on the radio. And I bet Brooke's music taste rocks," Jenny stated, and then got an idea. She bit her lip, practically able to feel the mischievous gleam in her own eyes.

"Jen…"

Jenny dipped her paintbrush into the electric blue paint and wrote, in big letters, across the living room wall: JUST DANCE.

Peyton gasped and rolled her eyes. "Thanks you, sweetheart," she said sarcastically. "Now I have to paint the entire room bright blue."

"I think it's your colour," Jenny said sweetly, blinking innocently.

Peyton blew out her breath exasperatedly and turned back to her own artistic creation on the opposite wall. "You are _so_ my daughter."

Jenny abandoned her paintbrush and flopped down onto the couch to watch her mother work. When she was a little girl, only four years old, she used to sit at her mother's side with crayons and eight-by-eleven paper and try to copy Peyton's drawings precisely. She could never get anywhere close to the magic Peyton seemed able to coax out of her charcoal and onto her sketchpad, and she used to cry. Peyton would kiss her head and tell her she'd created a masterpiece. Her father would joke that he couldn't draw to save his life, so she must have inherited it from him, and she could be a great musician instead. They'd argue playfully over Jenny's head about which of their passions their daughter would be interested in. Jenny would revel in the happiness, the playfulness of the moment, but afterward she would throw her sucky drawings out.

One time, Peyton found her placing her pictures in the trash, and had hurried over to stop her. She didn't think she'd ever forget the look in on Peyton's face when she crouched down next to Jenny and the garbage can, quietly asking, "Hey, baby, what're you doing? Won't you let me put that on the fridge?"

Jenny had shaken her head, giggling in confusion at how attached her mother appeared to be to the piece of paper with her awful drawing on it. "It's bad, Mommy," she'd said simply. "It doesn't matter."

Peyton sat down right on the kitchen floor and pulled Jenny into her lap, cradling her protectively. "Jenny, no. Listen to me – no matter what you think of it…your art matters. It's important, and it means something. Promise me that you'll remember that." She'd smiled encouragingly, but Jenny remembered being alarmed by the level of seriousness in her mother's eyes, even as Peyton playfully demanded that she hand over her artwork so that it could go right on the front of the fridge.

Jenny scrutinized her mother's painting. "Traffic lights?" she questioned.

Peyton threw down her paintbrush, turning around and smiling softly. "It's nothing. It's stupid. You're right; it'd look better that crazy neon blue."

Her daughter frowned, staring hard at the elegantly painted, purposefully blurry, red light staring out at her. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that your art matters?" she teased, remembering Peyton's words from all those years ago.

At Jenny's words, a quotation of her own, Peyton's eyes took on the exact same emotional cloudiness they'd held back on that day in Savannah on the kitchen floor. "Yeah," she whispered, looking away. "They did."

"Who?" Jenny asked, but the question sounded pointless even to her own ears. She bit down on her lower lip, and a part of her was scared of what had truly been running through her mother's head back then. If it was the same as what was clearly there now, it was just another part of her history Jenny knew she couldn't trust.

* * *

Lucas groaned, slamming the basketball toward the ground in frustration. He'd been shooting around, trying to get some of his emotion out, for nearly an hour.

None of his baskets were going in.

His mind was swimming with ideas that he was too scared to put on paper, for fear that they'd look messy and unrealistic when he finally got them out. At the same time, he wanted to bolt to his computer and write them down, for fear that maybe they were brilliant, and if he didn't bring them into the physical world somehow, he'd forget them.

A sleek, silver SUV drove right up to the court. It exuded macho vibes, contradicted by the _Baby on Board _sticker stuck to the back windshield. There was no doubt in Lucas' mind as to who it was.

Nathan got out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and walked over to Lucas at a carelessly slow pace. "Ball!" he called out. Lucas threw it over, and Nathan ran a couple strides, leaping up and dunking smoothly.

He grinned triumphantly when he hit the ground again. "Still got it," he declared. "What's up, big brother?" He held out his fist for a bump.

Lucas hit his knuckles against Nathan's, shrugging. "Nothing."

Nathan laughed. "Not nothing," he argued. "Hales told me that you know."

"Know what?"

"Don't play dumb, Luke, you don't have it in you. You know _what_."

Lucas scowled, shooting for another basket and missing again. "Why didn't you tell me, Nate? Why didn't you just pick up the phone and tell me?"

Nathan shrugged. "Peyton has her own brain, Lucas. She makes her own decisions. If she wanted you to know she was here, she could've picked up the phone just as easily as I could have."

"Bullshit. She didn't seek any of you out, did she? Ran into Haley at the airport. Brooke found out by accident. There was no way she was going to call me."

His brother stayed calm. "Her life, her choices. None of my business, or Haley's, or even Brooke's."

Lucas glared at him. "I deserved to know."

A sudden anger took over Nathan's steadily neutral eyes. "You didn't deserve a thing. Why do you even care? Huh? Peyton's not yours to be protective of anymore. She hasn't been for a long, long time."

The older Scott lifted his eyebrows, stunned by the sudden surge of ferocity within Nathan. "Speaking of protective," he commented simply.

"Damn right, I'm protective of her," Nathan shot back. "I know how it is with you two. You have a wife, Lucas. You have Brooke, and you have your daughter. Peyton had Jenny and a hell of a lot of emotional baggage. You can't get into this again. You have to be bigger than this."

Lucas threw his hands up into the air. "What the _fuck_? Everyone keeps acting like I want to…I don't even know, like I want Peyton."

"Well, don't you?" Nathan said it the same way someone would ask _Snow is white, right_? or _Red is a colour, yeah?_

"Nate…what…are you hearing yourself?" Lucas was incredulous. "It's like you just said – I have a family. She has a family. We're history."

"Yeah, but you're _not_. You and Peyton…you get lost in each other and you hurt everyone else, then you get all scared of what you're feeling so you hurt each other and run back to everyone else. You two never had an _ending_. It's a cycle that you just can't break for some fucking reason, and I'm not going to let it happen again, okay? I'm worried about Peyton as it is. And I love Brooke, and I know she loves you. And even though you're an ass, I care about you, too, so just…let it go, Luke. Let all of it go and just stay the hell away from her."

"I'm not going to _do_ anything."

Nathan sighed, glancing heavenward for a moment before shaking his head. "You know, Luke…when I came here today, that's what I wanted to hear you say. I wanted to hear it with…conviction. I wanted you to convince me."

"And?" Lucas demanded impatiently.

Nathan smirked sadly, wearily, as if he would have to deal with this for quite a while longer. "And I want you to stay the hell away from her, like I said, because I didn't believe a word of your little declaration. I hope you've got better stuff ready for your wife."

"Nate!" Lucas cried after him, outraged. He flung the ball toward the basket again.

He missed.

* * *

Peyton walked through the door of the apartment. She looked tired, Jenny noted, as she glanced up from her bag. "Hey Mom."

Peyton rewarded her with a weary smile. "You breaking up with me?" she teased.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I gotta go back to Haley's. That's where I'm supposed to live for the summer."

"I know, hon," Peyton said with a nod, walking over and picking up a sweater, which she folded with practiced ease.

Jenny hesitated, setting a pair of shorts into her bag. "I'm not sure if I want to go."

Peyton shook her head. "You do. I know you do, even if you're scared. But you don't have to be, Jenny. Nothing else is going to change between us." She lifted her eyebrows. "Not much else to change, right?"

"Not even with Lucas back?" she asked hesitantly.

"What does Lucas have to do with anything?"

"Don't answer a question with a question," Jenny sighed.

Peyton folded a t-shirt and handed it to Jenny. "That's mine, by the way," she said. "Now listen. Nothing is different. You're going to go back to Nathan and Haley's, learn lots, have the summer of your life. I'm going to…paint the apartment and try to find some brilliant hidden band in this town. And at the end of the summer, we're going to go home, and back to what we had."

Jenny was surprised. "You could do that? You _want_ to do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Peyton asked evenly, zipping up Jenny's duffel for her.

"Because it's going to be hard," Jenny said, her mind drifting to Jordan for a moment.

Peyton laughed lightly. "Trust me, kiddo, I'm a pro at goodbyes."

Jenny shook her head. "I don't understand how you can be so…_whatever_ about it all. It's going to be hard for me. To leave Haley and Nathan and their kids…and the friends I've made. I just thought it would be that much harder for you."

Her mother hesitated for a moment before asking, "Why?"

"_Why_?" Jenny demanded incredulously. "Because these people love you, Mom! They're your best friends, and they've missed you. And even if you don't show it, I _know_ that you've really missed them, too."

"Yeah. I have."

"Can you honestly tell me that you haven't considered…sticking around? Not for one minutes? You have a home here, not just this apartment but…this is your home, like Savannah was mine. Maybe we both don't really belong out in L.A."

Peyton looked alarmed. "Are you unhappy there?"

"No, it's where we live. I have my friends, the guys who I could maybe like, my teachers that are good and bad, that librarian who knows me so well, the mall I know like the back of my hand. I just…I kind of thought that maybe you were thinking of _staying_. It's obvious that everyone's missed you like hell, and they have since the day you left."

"Jenny, honey…I appreciate your concern. But I've built a new life, for both of us. My business is there, my life…it's there. Your school and your friends, like you said. That's where we belong now."

"Really? Seriously? Or are you just saying that?"

"I'm being totally serious."

"Mom…" Jenny sighed, looking down. She loved L.A., she really did, but a part of her always missed Savannah, and Tree Hill felt a lot more…comfortable, a lot more natural to her than Los Angeles did. She'd fallen apart here, but it seemed so much easier to get herself back together here than it would have been anywhere else.

And her mother was hesitant now, but she knew Peyton could thrive here. She _owned_ her label, she could move it if she wanted to, and she had a family in the form of a group of friends that loved so fiercely that most people could only dream of that kind of complicated affection and loyalty and their determination to work through the past in order to move on with their lives, so that they could stick together forever. Peyton had friends in L.A. – people flocked to Peyton Sawyer, she was pretty and successful and outspoken despite the initial iciness of her exterior. But nothing…no one like she had here had befriended her out in Los Angeles.

Peyton kissed her temple. "I'm going to go put on some comfy clothes and lie down. Come say bye before you leave."

Jenny watched her walk away, frowning. "Mom," she called out when Peyton got about eight steps away.

Her mother turned again. "Yeah, babe?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I just think it's going to hurt. Everyone here will be hurt when you leave them all again…and I think you're going to be hurting more than you'll admit to me."

"Jenny…you are so beautiful in your…your lack of bitterness, your faith in the world. You get hurt, and you close yourself off…but you never give up, you stay hopeful. It reminds me of your dad, and it breaks my heart." She smiled sadly, tilting her head toward the traffic lights she'd painted earlier in the day. "I used to draw those all the time when I was your age, when I lived here. I don't know why. Anger, catharsis, grief, honesty…My mom died when she ran a red light, and that's what started it all. You know what I used to write next to that drawing?" She paused, but Jenny knew she wasn't actually waiting for a response.

"People always leave," Peyton quoted quietly. "And that's the truth. That's life. People leave, and it hurts, but that's how it is. And that's how it's going to be with me."

She turned and walked away, leaving Jenny alone with her luggage, her sadness, and her hope.

* * *

Peyton tossed and turned restlessly that night. It was odd to be alone in the apartment, even though Jenny hadn't been there long. She'd hated loneliness as a teenager, loathed it, a fear that stemmed from her mother's death and her father's constant travel. Brooke and boys filled that void for her, spending the night. Brooke got girl talk and silly tradition out of it; the boys got a variation of things depending on who they were and what they meant to her at that particular time, ranging from Nathan, who got sex, and Lucas at some times, when all he got was the simple pleasure of her company. Peyton got to feel safe.

When she moved to Savannah, she had a whole family in her home, a husband and a daughter. When she moved out to L.A., she still had Jenny. Peyton hadn't spent much time alone.

It was for that reason that she quiet knocks on her door startled her. She was wearing a pair of pyjama pants printed with clouds on a pale blue background and a tank top of a similar shade, and she was sure her hair was a mess. Nonetheless, she got up to open the door, sure it was Jenny coming to pick up something she'd forgotten and could not get through the night without.

She opened the mouth with the full intention of berating her daughter for failing to realize that the door would be open and making Peyton get out of bed, but to her great surprise, Lucas Scott stood in front of her, a hesitant, almost boyish expression on his face.

"Hey," he said quietly, his eyes traveling down her body, and Peyton sent a quick thank you to whatever god responsible for the fact that she'd chosen to wear full-length pyjama pants to bed. She'd didn't need Lucas staring at her legs.

"Hi," she replied guardedly, her own eyes hastily searching his face.

"Can I come in?" He asked the question with raised eyebrows and a small smile, as if he knew it was impossible for her to deny him entrance.

He deserved to have the door slammed in his face for that simple fact, but he was right – without having been granted permission from her mind, her body moved, stepping aside and clearing a path for him into her home. She couldn't deny him.

She scrambled for the light switches, illuminating the apartment entirely. She was trying to eliminate anything that could cause further awkwardness: bare legs, the intimacy of darkness…

Lucas looked around curiously. He gazed at the wall on his far left and smirked. "_Just Dance_? Isn't that the song that's always on the radio?"

Peyton nodded. "That would be the one."

"Always gets stuck in my head…" he muttered, and she had to work hard not to smile.

His eyes drifted further, to the painting she'd done on the opposite wall that morning, giggling with Jenny and eating cereal. "Still drawing that thing, huh?" he asked, his smile private, as though he was comforted, thinking that some things never changed.

She shrugged, unsure of what to say. _Some things never change_. People said that to you a lot when you up and left and then suddenly reappeared over a decade later. The familiar things were reassurances that they could try and pick up where they left off. The words made Peyton uncomfortable where they healed the hearts of others. So she still didn't lock her door, and she still drew the same stupid pictures, and she still wouldn't let Brooke set her up on blind dates…and she still couldn't say no to Lucas Scott. But things _had_ changed, lots of things, and she felt like she was waiting for the bombshell to drop, for her friends to realize that reentering their past relationship was going to be a struggle, because none of them were kids anymore. They were supposed to be done making mistakes. Everything was harder now.

"People always leave," he said, as though mulling over the thought in his mind. His eyes moved from the painting on the wall to her face. "Well, you proved that one yourself, didn't you?"

Her expression hardened instantly into a glare. "What can I do for you, Lucas?" she asked stiffly.

"I thought we could talk."

She scoffed, though she wasn't entirely sure why. "What about?"

"It's been years, Peyton. There have to be things to say."

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Did you come here…looking for an _explanation_?" she asked incredulously. The fucking _nerve_ of him. To think that she had ever loved this boy. To think that she had ever not loved this man.

"No, Peyton…" He held up his hands. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Right."

"Really, I didn't…I just wanted to know how your life is."

"My life is fine, thank you."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I was hoping for some details."

"Honestly, Luke, I don't really feel like giving you any. I don't understand why you're here."

"Because I wanted to talk to you," he repeated. "We were friends, Peyt."

"God, don't…shorten my name." She took a couple steps back instinctively, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to hug him, like she used to when he was just the boy who stopped by her room to check in on her, but she couldn't.

Lucas looked awkward and out-of-place as he stood there by her door, struggling to throw the conversation into more neutral territory. "How's Jenny doing?"

"She's good. She's fine." Peyton allowed herself a small smile. "She plays ball better than I ever did."

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning. "Good for her. She seems like a good kid. All you."

She laughed lightly, though it was a strangled sound. "I wasn't exactly the best kid ever. She's got other stuff going for her."

Lucas shook his head. "Nah. I know we only met for a second but…she's your daughter, for sure. You were a good kid, Peyton. You were just a little lost."

That made her laugh in earnest. "You say it like I'm not lost now."

The familiar concern of years gone by welled up in his eyes. "Are you?"

She wanted to yell at him, to be cold to him, but she couldn't do it. "What?" she asked again, the serious undertone in her voice coated over by a teasing lilt. "All these years, and you still haven't found a better hobby than saving me?"

Lucas arched an eyebrow, looking at her deeply. "Do you need saving?" he asked, the same question as before but framed more directly.

All of the mirth faded away as she regarded him seriously. "No. Not from you."

Lucas scowled, clearly wounded, but he didn't have any reason to be, and Peyton knew that was a fact. He'd given up his position as her saviour long ago.

"It's late. I think you should go."

"Peyton…"

"Please, Luke. Go home to your family."

"Look, I just want to say –"

"No!" she cried out, holding up her hands with her palms facing him, shielding herself from his words. "I can't do this with you, Lucas. I can't rehash…eight years ago."

"Okay, okay," he said softly, soothingly. "Okay." He took a few steps toward her and she backed up even farther, shaking her head.

"Please go."

And then out of nowhere, out of the _blue_, he demanded, "Did you tell Brooke you loved me? Back in senior year, before you left."

Peyton closed her eyes. "You don't believe your own wife?"

"Most of the time, yeah, I do. But not when she starts talking about high school declarations while she's jealous of you because you just came back and she thinks that changes things for us."

She let her eyes flutter open and stared at him in confusion. "She _just_ told you?"

"Yeah, she j_ust_ told me. So why don't you tell me if it's true?"

"That was a very long time ago, Luke."

He stared at her people-always-leave traffic lights on the wall. "Some things don't change," he said softly, aware of how dangerous his words were.

She felt her chest convulse in what was partially a gasp and partially a sob. Those words would always damn her. "Some things sure as hell do," she said pointedly, and they both knew what she was saying.

Lucas nodded, staring at the floor. "Yeah…and you really loved Jake. Even back…even eight years ago. I thought he was gone from your life then, but I guess he wasn't…even though I hear he is now." He looked up on his last words, right into her eyes.

Peyton wanted to scream from the frustration she felt and how much it hurt her. She stalked across the apartment, right past Lucas, her arm brushing his for a millisecond and intensifying everything she was feeling. She opened the door for him and clutched the doorknob desperately. "How know what, Luke? You're _right_, I did really love him. And you're right, he's not in my life anymore, but I told you, we are _not_ discussing what happened…then. No matter who the hell is in my life or not, Brooke is still in yours." She met his eyes with fierceness in her own green orbs. "And don't you _dare_ forget that."

Lucas stayed still for a moment, and then left without another word, dragging his feet a bit. Peyton didn't look at him again, and slammed the door shut right behind him. She leaned back against it, breathing heavily, and sank down until she hit the floor. She leaned her head back against the hard wood. Something instinctive and certain told her that Lucas was in the same position on the other side of the door. She thought of his mind, in tune with hers, and his body, perfectly in sync with hers, and the two-inch-thick door that separated them from one another.

She wasn't going to cry.

**A/N:** Reviews make me smile, and write.


	18. Continuo

**A/N: **You guys are breaking my review records all over the place. A million thanks, as always. This chapter is kinda-sorta filler, but it is important. This story is approaching the point when you'll _finally_ find out why Jake is no longer in Peyton's life...and what happened between Lucas and Peyton eight years ago. I've had that chapter written for a really long time, so I'm pretty excited to finally be getting to it, and I hope you all are too.

I really need to start dedicating some attention to my other stories, not to mention all the scholarship essays I should be writing and assessments I should be completing, so I might not be updating too often...but then again, my muse for this story never seems to quit, so I guess we'll all just have to wait and see. Read and review, pretty please.

Continuo: a feature of most music, the continuo follows the base line of the music and is normally played by a chordal instrument. The base chords are then filled in my the harmonious instruments, embellishing the music to complete the piece.

Haley yawned, pulling on a sweater and doing up three of the buttons as she walked into the kitchen. Jenny shoved a pot of coffee across the counter toward her. "Need a pick-me-up?" she offered.

"Yes, thank you," Haley accepted, taking the mug out of Jenny's hands and taking a sip. "Mm, you brew good coffee."

"Yeah, especially when I make it for myself," Jenny replied pointedly, staring at the cup that Haley had just taken from her.

"You are _way_ too young to be drinking coffee. You're way too young to know how to brew a good cup of coffee."

Jenny rested all her weight of one hip, her eyebrows flying upward. "My mom has been letting me drink coffee for a year."

Haley shrugged. She'd always known that Peyton would be more of a liberal parent than she was, and considering the minimal age difference between Peyton and Jenny, it was understandable. Still, it was her house, and she had her rules. "You can do whatever you want under your mother's roof, kiddo. At my house, you drink milk or juice."

"Some rock star," Jenny scoffed teasingly, reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out the orange juice. "Shouldn't you be showing me how to party?"

"Ha ha," Haley replied wryly. "In your dreams, honey." She stifled another yawn and took a couple gulps of caffeine.

"Why so tired? Is something bothering you?"

Haley smiled. Jenny had a good immediate sense of people; she was good at picking up emotional vibes – definitely a characteristic she'd inherited from Jake, and one that reminded Haley of herself. "I just couldn't sleep last night."

Jenny chugged her entire glass of juice. "Story of my life," she replied when she was done.

"Yeah?" Haley questioned curiously.

"I feel like…things are changing. It just makes it difficult for me to sleep." Jenny grimaced. "Do I sound crazy?"

Haley bit her lower lip lightly. "Not at all." She leaned down, resting her elbows on the counter. "So what do you think, Jen? Are things changing for better or worse?"

"A little bit of both," Jenny replied with certainty.

"Yeah," Haley sighed. "I figured you'd say that."

The problem was that she no longer had solid definitions of better or worse. What was better for some people could devastate others, and that was what made her so uneasy about it all.

* * *

Peyton was sitting on the bar at Tric, her feet propped up on a stool and her sketchpad balanced on her lap as she lazily doodled. She loved to see the success of the club at night, but she liked Tric best in the early mornings. In the soft light of the morning, it was tired from the previous day of activity, peacefully resting. When it was free of partiers, drunks, Chris Keller, and CMC kids, when the only music playing was not the steady thump of a hip-hop beat but the quiet strains of a broken guitar solo…that was when her beloved club, her first creative baby, belonged to her again.

It was the same with Lucas, the same sensation of having certain moments that were solely her. She wondered if she was destined to only have parts of things, only designated periods of time. One mom for eight years, the other for a month. Jake for a certain period of time, Lucas for specific moments. Her father when he showed up, and Jenny permanently.

Brooke appeared in the doorway, breaking Peyton's train of thought. Peyton stopped sketching, dropping her pencil as she watched Brooke lean against the doorframe tiredly, letting her designer bag dangle from her fingers. She spoke rather than actually hitting her knuckles against any surface: "Knock, knock."

Peyton gave her a weak but genuine smile in return. "Who's there?" she played along, as if Brooke was telling a joke. She wished she were.

The brunette paused for a moment before she replied, and when she did her answer was heavy with truth. "The same old story."

Peyton glanced down immediately. "Yeah…" she said softly.

They'd agreed to have better.

Couldn't they be better?

They stared at one another. Neither of them made any move to close the distance between them.

"I should go," Brooke said abruptly, hiking her purse up onto her shoulder and turning to leave.

"Brooke!" Peyton didn't move, but she spoke. "Wait."

When Brooke turned back around, she said earnestly. "I really do want to be better with you. You said it yourself. We can do it…can't way?"

Brooke's eyes flooded, full of tears and pain. "Oh, P. Sawyer, I don't know. I wish we could. I want that, too," she said mournfully. "But I…I don't think I _can_. It hurts me, Peyton…but I don't think it's possible for me to love both of you." She clapped a hand over her mouth, holding back sobs, and turned and ran. Her heels click-clacked against the floor, breaking the peace of Tric.

A tear dripped down onto Peyton's artwork, smudging the carefully placed lines that created an image.

Her problem was quite the opposite. She could have loved both Brooke and Lucas. Wholly and fiercely, she could have loved them both with everything within her.

If only they didn't love one another.

* * *

Brooke was lying on her stomach on the bed, lazily sketching some designs for her newest line. Really, she wasn't paying much attention to her work; she'd spent the last half hour spying on her husband, who was sitting in the wing backed chair in their room, typing furiously on his laptop.

They'd reached the sort of peace that came with an unspoken agreement not to touch their issues for a while, to just leave things alone, and had fallen into a routine that screamed of normalcy. The only problem with the kind of peace they currently had was that it was always tentative – just because they chose to ignore them, their issues didn't go away. And Brooke, for one, was sick of pretending.

"Got your muse back, babe?" she asked casually.

Lucas looked up, startled by her voice. "Uh…yeah. I guess an ultimatum can do that to a person. Lindsay told me that if I didn't get it together, my career as a writer would be over."

"Hm," Brooke murmured, studying him. She could feel it happening – she was slowly coming down from the high road she knew she should take. It was like being a teenager all over again, when her bitchiness and juvenile tactics got her ahead. She turned her attention to her drawing, her next words escaping her lips before she could think them over enough to stop them. "Peyton and Chris are dating."

Lucas glanced up, slack-jawed. "Excuse me? Chris _Keller_?"

His shock served to fuel her, egging her on. "Yeah. Well…" she smirked. "They're not exactly _dating_…but they're definitely having sex."

Her husband winced, closing his eyes for an instant as if to block out the mental image. He took a deep breath, collecting himself again and shaking his head a bit as if to rid himself of the idea. He closed his laptop and looked straight at Brooke. She shrunk a little under his gaze, which told her just what he thought of her at that moment."Oh, _darn_," he said, sounding a little like Haley did when she was being sarcastic. "That foils my whole plan to ditch you and seduce Peyton. Huh."

"Luke," she berated him, frowning.

He glared back. "Brooke, this isn't…right. There isn't a reason for you to be jealous, or upset, or insecure so just…leave it, please. You're better than this, and I think you know it."

She sighed, abandoning her sketches and flopping onto her back. "I know. I'm sorry, Luke…it's just thrown me off, having her back here. I wasn't lying before. She hasn't gotten really serious with a guy since Jake, she told me that. What if…even if you're not into her…what if she came back for you?"

"Brooke…Peyton's your best friend. Don't you have more faith in her, more trust?"

"Not since she started hooking up with my boyfriend in junior year. Not since she declared her love for the same boyfriend a year later."

"It's been, what, twelve years since she left? Peyton hasn't been pining for me all that time, Brooke. You have to know that's true."

"I _want_ it to be true."

Lucas nodded. "So believe it. Please."

She took a deep breath. "Okay."

He smiled earnestly, a sight she'd been missing. "That's my girl," he said fondly, and it warmed her heart.

Broke smiled back coyly. "I missed you, Lucas Scott." She sat up, shedding her sweater, and quirked her eyebrows at him. "Come join me."

He grinned back, a bit sheepishly. "Brooke, I would love to…but I have to get this idea out of my head and written down so I can stop stressing about it. Besides, Miranda's going to be home so-"

"Mommy! Daddy!"

Brooke groaned. "Perfect timing," she sighed. As she stood up, she leaned over to him for a quick kiss. "You write. I've got to go say hi to Mrs. Anderson."

Downstairs, she greeted the mother of Miranda's friend warmly, offering her tea. She served Mrs. Anderson tea and gave juice to the little girls. They made polite, idle conversation while their daughters giggled together. Brooke was relieved when Mrs. Anderson stood up, excusing herself for an appointment she had to make it to, and called her daughter over to her. Brooke waved with one hand as they walked out, combing the fingers of her other hand through Miranda's hair. "How was your day, sweet girl?" she asked after the door shut behind them.

"Good! Is Daddy here?"

"He's writing right now, baby; why don't you and I play?"

"I want to play, too!" Lucas called in a teasingly wounded tone, pretending to feel left out. He jogged down the stairs, smiling at his daughter. "I've got my stuff down, I can add details later."

"Daddy," Miranda said happily, running over to him and throwing her arms around his leg.

"Hey, princess. What's on your mind?"

She gave him her prettiest smile. Brooke recognized it well. She could resist that adorable grin, but Lucas was absolutely powerless to it. "Can we go get ice cream?" Miranda pouted, gazing up at her father imploringly.

It came as no surprise to Brooke when he immediately agreed, but the loving smile Lucas directed at her over their daughter's head was a pleasant surprise. "As long as your mom agrees," Lucas told Miranda.

This time it was Brooke who had no resistance, unable to turn down an afternoon with her family. "Of course we can," she said, and she knew that Lucas was aware that it was her way of promising that she was going to do her best to let the whole Peyton thing go.

* * *

Haley had a recording appointment of her own that afternoon, so Nathan left the baby and the twins home with Jamie and Jenny, who were both competent guardians, and sought out Peyton.

He was worried about her. Haley had given him a rundown on Brooke's current emotional state, he himself had talked to Lucas, but he didn't know how Peyton was dealing with the fact that she'd seen Luke again. Haley was still angry with her, Brooke was clearly still dealing with some business, Jenny was spending most of her time on CMC activity, and Chris was still wounded. Nathan figured that she could use a friend.

He let himself into her apartment, which was surprisingly free of any music. Peyton was pointing all of the walls of her living room black. Peeking out from underneath on one wall Nathan could see the familiar-looking corner of those traffic lights that were somewhat of a signature of hers. On the wall she'd just begun to paint, JUST DANCE was written on the wall in big, blue, loopy letters, undoubtedly Jenny's doing and what Peyton was attempting to cover up.

She still hadn't sensed his presence, so he leaned against the doorframe and smirked, feeling a gentle sense of déjà vu. "What do you call that?" he asked quietly, referring to the blackened walls of the room.

Peyton turned around, setting down her paintbrush and smiling sadly at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Love," she said softly, the same word she'd used on the day he'd found her in her room, mourning the anniversary of her mother's death and covering an entire canvas in black paint.

Nathan nodded understandingly. "How're you holding up?"

"Okay. I'm okay."

He smiled. "Well…you know what makes okay just a little bit more bearable?"

Peyton arched an eyebrow.

"Ice cream," he answered his own question, extending an arm. "C'mon, Sawyer. This is nothing a little mint chocolate chip can't fix."

She smiled gratefully, tucking herself under his arm, curling into his chest a bit. They walked through the door together, and Nathan closed the door firmly behind him. She needed to get away from those black walls for a while.

They went to a popular ice cream place along the river walk and managed to snag good table, sitting while they ate. Nathan liked his ice cream in a cup rather than a cone; it was something Peyton had always mocked him for.

"So are you keeping up on business in L.A.?"

"I'm corresponding, yeah. My assistants are really awesome; they're running the place better than I normally do."

"I'm sure that's not true," he said automatically.

She smiled, clearly touched – if not a little amused – by his concern for her. "They're running it _at least_ as well as I do, then. I think everything will be functioning as it should be when I get back."

Nathan nodded. "You're…going back, huh? For sure?"

"Jenny…she asked me the same thing the other day. Yes, Nathan, I am going back. I need to go back. It's my home now; my label, Jenny's school, friends…everything is in L.A. But Nate…it's not going to be like before. I'll keep in touch. I'll come back."

"Okay," he sighed, realizing that it would be useless to try to convince her otherwise. "I believe you."

"Thank you," she said earnestly, the gratitude clear in her green eyes, which were such a hazy shade that day that they were almost brown; the colour Peyton's eyes often appeared when she was in a particularly melancholy state. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

She shifted uneasily, giving him a gentle smile prior to asking her question, which she phrased casually, her tone enveloped in sympathetic kindness: "Where's Daddy Dearest?"

Nathan sighed and smiled back, understanding her curiosity. "Dan is in jail."

Peyton's eyebrows shot up. "Wh…what? Why?"

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. Peyton mirrored his pose so that their faces were close; he could talk softly without her having to struggle to hear him. "Dan killed Keith, Peyton."

The colour drained out of her face, and Nathan instantly grasped the hand that she had resting on the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"_Dan_ killed Keith? How long have you known?" she gasped.

"Since twelfth grade…just before graduation. Luke figured it out."

Compassion and regret pooled together in Peyton's eyes, turning into empathetic pain. "That must have been so hard on him," she breathed. "He must have…"

"Needed you?" he filled in, so quietly that he wondered if she would have heard him.

But she did, her eyes flying up to meet his with panicked speed. "I…" she choked on her words, struggled to find the right ones, before finally attempting to save herself with, "And you, too, Nate…I'm sorry I wasn't here. You two deserved better. You all deserved better."

"No, Peyton…don't worry about us. You deserved happiness just as much as we all did. And you found it, right?"

"Yeah…I did. But I never should have…I'm sorry. I just need you to know that."

He nodded. "I missed you, Sawyer. But you don't need to apologize for what's happened to Dan…he never was much of a father anyway, you know that. Not an excellent dad like me," he added with a grin.

"You are, Nathan. A great dad, I mean."

He chuckled. "Thanks. You know, I think my kids are starting to like Jenny more than they do me. She's really great with them. I think Sebastian might love her almost as much as he loves you. Does she babysit or anything in L.A.? She's awesome with kids." He awaited her answer, and got no response. She seemed to be lost in something behind him. "Sawyer?" Still no response. "Peyton!" She snapped back to life, opening her mouth to speak, but all that left her lips was a small, strangled sound. His curiosity got the best of him and he turned in his seat to see what she'd been staring at.

The 'Second Scotts'. Lucas, Brooke, and Miranda sitting together at the counter of the place on those stools that spin, laughing together. Miranda, seated between them, said something that made both her parents laugh. Lucas' hand hovered in the air behind her back as she spun on her stool, keeping her safe in case she slipped; Brooke bent down to nuzzle her nose against Miranda's, sending the five-year-old into a fit of giggles.

Nathan sighed as he turned back to face Peyton. "You want to talk about it?"

"Hm?" she asked vulnerably, jumping a bit as she met his eyes again.

"Lucas. You want to talk about it?" he asked evenly.

"There's nothing to say."

"Uh-huh. Look, Peyton…I'm on your side."

"Oh, Nathan…" She sat back in her chair, frowning. "Don't do that. That's horrible. We're not kids. There's no competition, there aren't sides."

"Peyton…you know I love Brooke. I've known her for longer than I've known you, but –"

"Nate, please, don't. I don't know if I can hear this."

"I want you to," he insisted. "Brooke and I have known each other for a long time. We used to play together when we were kids. I'd throw my basketball at her dolls and she'd scream at me, and our mothers would joke that we'd get married someday…before they went back to bitching about their own issues. Brooke is a good person. She's a wonderful friend and a great wife, and she's an awesome mother. She's my friend and I love her. But, when it comes to you and Luke…" He shrugged. "I never loved you like I should have, Peyton, like you deserved, or like you needed me to. But I knew that he could. To me, Lucas wasn't just a threat to my game, but to my relationship with you."

"I can't believe that. You know I love you, but you wouldn't have really cared that much; our relationship wasn't exactly spectacular."

"Our relationship? No. But the sex sure as hell was."

"Nathan," she sighed, but smiled nonetheless.

"That's what it was about, then. That's who I was back then. And I was all territorial about you, all protective. I remember the first time I really saw Lucas look at you, the first time I watched him watching you. We were kids, fifteen, maybe? It was that day in Phys. Ed. that you fainted, do you remember that? You were sick, but you were too damn stubborn to stay at home."

She blushed, nodding. "Do you have a point here?"

"Yeah, I do. You collapsed, and Brooke and a bunch of the other girls ran over to you right away. Brooke was taking care of you. I bent down next to you to see if you were okay, and over your shoulder I saw Lucas watching. And the way he looked at you, Peyton…" Nathan shook his head. "It was so caring, and _deep. _I couldn't help but think that I'd never looked at you like that."

"I don't see how this is supposed to…comfort…me in any way, Nate," she whispered.

"Luke is your guy, Peyton. I know that you know that, and I think that he does, too."

"Stop," she warned him.

"I understand, okay? It's alright. I'm not attacking you, I'm trying to tell you that I get it, that…I'm here for you. So tell me what it is."

Peyton sighed heavily. She was obviously unhappy with him, but it was also clear that she needed to get whatever the hell was bugging her off her chest. "It's not Lucas," she said quietly. "It's just…look at them," she sighed, jutting her chin out slightly toward the Scott family, looking cozy and sweet as Brooke leaned in to kiss Lucas over Miranda's head. "This is going to sound stupid, but…I had that first," she choked out, before getting a hold of herself. "With Jake and Jenny, you know? The guy who loved me and the perfect little girl…at least, most of the time she was perfect," she added with a small, private smile.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened with Jake?" Nathan asked just as quietly, trying to get her to finally divulge some information.

She shook her head, slinging her purse onto her shoulder as she stood. "Nathan, thank you for this, but I've got to go. You're being great, and I really am sorry about your dad."

He sighed, shaking his head. She was always avoiding something or someone. Always running away, in hopes of keeping her heart safe. He stood up, too, giving up for the moment. The last thing Peyton needed was another lecture. "Yeah, I guess I should get home, too. But listen, Sawyer, I want you to know that I'm with you. I'm on Team Peyton."

Part of him expected a scowl and a scolding about the way he was thinking, but instead he got a bone-crushing hug. "I love you, Nathan, you know that?" she said quietly as she clung to him for one last moment, taking a very deep breath and pulling herself together before she stepped back, looking at him fondly. "Maybe I should've stayed with you, y'know? It seemed a lot easier. And there was all that spectacular sex." She grinned, slapping his ass and throwing him a wink before she hurried off.

Nathan blushed a little, rolling his eyes. "So you admit it was just that good?" he called teasingly after her, not really expecting a response.

As playful and lighthearted as Peyton seemed as she walked away from him, her blonde curls bouncing softly on her shoulders, he couldn't help but think of her returning to that apartment and hiding herself within its black walls.

**A/N:** Reviews will keep me smiling until I finally get to watch those L/P scenes we've been promised in 6.05.


	19. Tremolo

**A/N**: I've run out of adjectives to describe how awesome, fantastic, and wonderful your reviews and your feedback are. Read on...

Tremolo: an Italian word, the definition of which is "trembling". It is impossible to achieve this quick repetition of a single note on most instruments.

"Hey, Blondie."

Peyton whirled around, dropping the album in her hands. She'd been doing some organizing for Tric, and hadn't been expecting anyway to sneak up on her. It was, after all, six o'clock in the morning.

"You're an early bird today," she replied, her tone delicate. "I didn't…think we were speaking."

"You let me into your life for about ten seconds and then pushed me right back out. I'm fairly sure that you're the one who made that decision."

"Don't," she said sadly, bending down to pick up the album and setting it aside. Her eyes felt heavy, burdened by tears and strained by how very little sleep she was getting. "This isn't what…I don't…" She sighed. "I didn't want it to be like this."

"It seemed that way."

"Stop. I'm sorry. I'm indecisive and I'm hurt and this summer has already kind of been hell on earth even though it's barely been a week, and I just…it wasn't what I intended. I want you to believe that."

He leaned against the bar. "Alright. I do. I believe you."

"Okay," she breathed.

He tilted his head to one side, studying her contemplatively. "Peyton…if _this_ isn't what you intended, then what did you intend?"

"I don't know," she whispered, looking down at the floor in shame. "I didn't exactly think that far ahead." Her head was still spinning with uncertainty, but she relished the hesitant conversation they were ploughing their way through. She hadn't thought she'd be so happy to see him again, but the sight of him was grounding her in a way.

"Huh."

Her eyes flew back up to meet his, familiar frustration flaring within her. "That's all you have to say? That's your reply?" She shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry. God, I…I should be glad that you're not yelling at me."

He shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously. "I…" He sighed. It was one of the few times she'd seen him look so uncomfortable, so unsure in front of her. "I guess…I guess we both made…assumptions that we shouldn't have made."

A part of her was strangely proud of him for getting those words out, for shouldering some of the blame in their fucked-up situation. "Yeah. We did. And I'm sorry."

With a heavy sigh, he said, "I'm sorry, too."

"It's just…it was just that you…you're you. And I'm me." She shrugged, laughing awkwardly at her own words. "That can't make any sense."

"It does," he assured her, in a tone more gentle than she would have expected considering everything they'd been through. "It does."

She nodded, thanking him with her eyes, not able to trust her voice at the moment.

"Maybe it was wrong, but I wanted –"

"I know," Peyton cut him off. "I know, and part of me…" She exhaled shakily. "Part of me did, too, but I…" she trailed off, a lump forming in her throat. "I…"

He waited a moment before he opened his arms slightly and gently tugged her into his embrace. "It's okay," he said into her hair, and she buried her face in the folds of his shirt, taking deep breaths to keep from crying. "I know."

She pulled away, wiping her eyes and avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment. "I know you know. I know, too. Everyone knows. Brooke knows," she added sadly.

The smallest smile graced his lips. "Everyone knows," he agreed, "but no one wants to admit it. It should be easier than this, shouldn't it?"

"Yeah," she agreed in a whisper.

"I'm going to go, okay?" he asked, his voice husky. She knew what he was saying. _I'm going to go before this goes places it shouldn't_. _The places I want it to go, the places that will hurt us both in the end_.

"Okay," she said with a nod.

"Are you okay?"

A laugh escaped her lips without her permission. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Yeah…but I might just do it anyway." He gave her shoulder a squeeze before they parted, letting his fingers linger on all the bare skin; only the smallest bit was covered by the thin strap of her tank top. She didn't say a word as his hand brushed gently down her arm. It was a goodbye sort of touch, intimate but final.

She was determined to get through a stretch of time without crying, so as he walked away, she spoke up rather than breaking down, throwing a playful observation out into the air between them: "Hey. Chris Keller has a heart. Who would've guessed?"

He threw her a look that was partially an agreement and partially a scolding. She held up her hands in surrender, happy that he could still make her smile.

"Don't worry," she assured him softly. "Peyton Sawyer's going to keep her mouth shut."

* * *

"Luke!" Brooke called from their bedroom, which was right next to his office, or his 'writing room' as Haley had nicknamed it long ago. "_Luke_!" she yelled, leaning toward the mirror as she put on her lipstick. Still, she received no reply. Sighing in exasperation, she picked up her earrings and put them on and she walked into his office, frowning. "Lucas Scott!" she said again, tucking a couple loose strands of hair behind her ear and planting her hands on her hips.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, slamming his laptop shut and spinning around in his chair.

She scowled suspiciously. "Were you looking at porn?"

He rolled his eyes as he stood and walked over to her. "No, just writing. I'm getting really good stuff down lately."

"Why don't you want me to see it?"

"You know how I am about my writing, Pretty Girl."

She couldn't debate him on that one. He'd always been very secretive. "Fine, fine. I'm going in to work, and I'll drop Miranda off at dance class on the way there. Mrs. Anderson's picking the girls up again and Mira's staying there for dinner…so I might be able to swing by and pick her up on my way home…"

"We'll figure it all out. If you can't pick her up, I will."

Brooke sighed. He made it all sound so easy. "Okay. Yeah. We'll figure it out." She hesitated. She wanted to ask him something, but didn't want to get into a fight – she really had to get to work, Millicent had to be swamped. "Luke…we will figure it out?" she asked, posing the same words as a question.

"Yeah, babe, like I just said," he replied, frowning in confusion.

"No, Lucas…everything. We'll figure everything out?"

He smiled, placing his hands lightly on her hips and leaning in for a simple kiss, his lips brushing hers. "We'll figure everything out," he confirmed.

Brooke held onto those words like some sort of sacred promise, nodding and kissing him one last time before she left. "Mira!" she called out into the hallway. "Let's move, baby! You don't want to be late."

"I'm ready, Mommy, let's go," their daughter chirped, standing in the doorway of the room in her leotard and a pair of sweatpants. "Bye, Daddy," she added.

"I'll see you later, princess; I love you." He turned his smile to Brooke. "And you," he said.

Brooke let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, extending a hand to her daughter. "Come on, munchkin," she said, guiding her down the hallway.

"I'm glad Daddy's back," Miranda said simply, in all her sweet, five-year-old innocence.

"Yeah, it's good," Brooke replied quietly.

In their house, safely enclosed by walls, windows, and doors, it was very good. But out there in the world, with Peyton Sawyer, it was not quite as perfect.

* * *

"Hello?" Haley asked, having answered her cell phone without checking the caller ID. Jenny was practicing a song on her guitar, and Haley spoke quietly so as not to distract her.

"Hey, you," came Brooke's somewhat breathless reply. "How's it going?"

"Good. Brooke, I love you and everything, but I thought you had a really busy day today."

"Oh, I did. I do. I'm just taking a breather."

"Uh-huh," Haley said knowingly, smiling in spite of herself. "Okay, honey, talk to me."

"About what?"

Haley rolled her eyes. "About whatever the hell you called me about."

"Busted," Brooke sighed. "I don't really know, I just wanted to talk to you. Always makes me feel better."

Haley grinned and blushed, though Brooke couldn't see her. "How are things with Luke?"

"They're…they're okay. I just feel like such an insecure bitch sometimes. There are moments when I think I'm validated in what I believe…but then he just gives me this look and I'm know I have no right to say what I'm saying."

"Lucas loves you."

"Yeah," Brooke sighed. "What about you, Hales?"

"Me?" Haley asked. "Uh, Nathan and I are great."

"Not you and Nathan, tutor girl," Brooke replied, and Haley could practically _hear_ her rolling her pretty brown eyes. "You and Peyton."

"Oh, um…" Haley ran a hand through her hair, which was growing a little frizzy from the humidity of the studio. "Not so good. Kind of…nonexistent right now." She cleared her throat. "What about _you_ and Peyton?"

Brooke laughed bitterly. "There's no such thing as me and Peyton now that Luke's back in town."

"Brooke," Haley berated her. "You've got to let go of all that."

"Haley, I'm willing to trust him, and I'm willing to trust her. I just can't trust them both. Does that make sense? Please tell me that makes sense."

Haley sighed heavily. "In some ways, I guess it does."

There was a long silence, and when Brooke spoke again her voice was thick with tears. "You should make up with her, okay? You two should be friends again. She needs somebody."

"Oh, Brooke…" she said mournfully. "I know she does. We just need some time. To let all of this…cool off."

"I want her to be okay."

"Oh, honey," Haley cooed sympathetically. "She will be. Do you want me to stop by and give you some company for a bit? Jenny should learn some musical independence; I can steal away for a while. We could have tea," she added, offering up the classic comfort beverage.

"No, tutor mom, thank you…but I really am swamped here. Thanks for listening."

She was determined to remain optimistic. "Everything's going to be okay, Brooke."

For such a smart woman, Haley James-Scott had never been good to learn from her past experiences. Every time she said "It's all okay" or "Everything's perfect" the lights went out or her car broke down or some tragic, dramatic event befell someone she loved.

Haley, of all people, should have been well-acquainted with the following cliché: Famous last words.

* * *

After Brooke and Miranda hurried out of the house an their way to their respective activites, Lucas returned to his computer and sat down. His fingers fell easily on the keys, typing at incredible speed and rarely hitting the wrong keys. He hadn't been able to write like this, so sure of his words, in quite a while. Without consciously knowing it, he found that the section he was writing was coming to an end, and he instantly thought of the words to provide just the right amount of closure.

As he wrote the final sentence of his chapter, he realized that he was unaware of exactly what the story he'd just documented…was. He started to read again, in an effort to understand the words that seemed to have gotten from his fingers to the keys to the screen without ever having consulted his brain.

Lucas sat back in his chair, slowly scrolling down the pages of his document, staring in amazement at the words that had sprung from his mind and spilled from his soul. He realized he needed that subtle kind of closure for himself, too, not just for his chapter.

* * *

When there was another knock on her apartment door that evening, Peyton felt a sudden rush of dread, wishing that she could pretend that she wasn't home. Haley and Brooke wouldn't be paying her visits anytime soon. Jenny or Nathan would have walked straight in. Hell, Chris Keller would have walked straight in. That left a single possibility.

If only her music hadn't been blasting at full volume, she would have waited out the knocking, pretending that she was away. Out and about, busily doing important things. She wished she had more to occupy her time, more to distract her mind.

Safely settled within the walls of the apartment, she was comfortable. Still a little lost, a little heartbroken, but both Nathan and Chris had been sweet enough to seek her out to offer some much-needed caring words. And Jenny, without knowing it, always helped heal her.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of popcorn and her laptop open in front of her as she sent back advice to the group currently running her record label, she had a sense that everything might work out, that everything could be okay.

And then came that knock on the door, and it could only be one person, the only person who could ruin her carefully structured plan to get back on track.

"Hi, Luke," she said wearily as she swung open the door. She kept one hand clutching at the knob, steadying her, while she planted the other on her hip, appearing a lot more authoritative and confident than she actually felt.

"Hey," he replied, and there was a tender quality to his voice that somehow threw her into a brief state of euphoria and annoyed the hell out of her at the same time.

"You know, Lucas, I really doubt that your wife is pleased that you're here. Oh, wait," she said, scoffing and letting her eyes bore into his. "She doesn't know you're here, does she? You wouldn't be _that_ stupid."

"Peyton, look –"

"Why are you _here_?" she asked desperately. He needed to provide her with some sort of reasoning for everything that happened to her head and her heart and her body when he came looking for her.

He recognized her anguish; she could see the flash of saddened realization in those blue eyes she'd never been able to resist. "Peyton, when I came here yesterday, I wasn't trying to…"

"To _what_? You're married! This, whatever there is between us, it can not and it _does_ not exist, do you understand me?" She shook her head, her hair whipping back and forth.

"Peyt…I just want for us to be friends again." He tilted his head, listening to the music that filled the apartment. "You know that you were listening to Dashboard Confessional the first time you really looked at me? The time you almost ran over me. This very song."

She cursed karma, thoroughly despising fate and every other higher power that was toying so cruelly with her. "Did you know," she mimicked him coldly, "that you remember every single stupid little detail about every single stupid little thing?"

* * *

Lucas studied her face sadly. She looked so hurt, so upset, and the words she was flinging at him were a classic defensive mechanism. "Peyton, please." He grabbed one of her hands, warm and slender and a perfect fit to his. "I want to go back to what we had. I've missed you so much."

"What we had wasn't friendship, Luke. Call it what you want, but I am _done_ lying about it all. We were more than friends. It's how we started, and maybe you don't want to admit it, but it's how we ended. I hate that. I hate that I have to…"

"Have to what?" he prodded. _Have to love you_? he wondered, his heart palpitating at the possibility.

She tugged her hand out of his. "You mean a lot to me, Lucas," she said, obviously struggling to stay calm. "No matter the time and distance between us."

"Back at you," he said in a quiet voice full of conviction. "Peyton, eight years ago, you –"

"We are not _children_ anymore," she cut him off, gesturing frantically with her hands. "Can you understand that, Luke? When we were kids you could kiss me in the hallway and tell me that you shouldn't have picked Brooke…but, god, I just…" She swallowed thickly. "You proved that you should have, didn't you? You proved that you made the right choice. I said no, for _her_ sake, and you went back to her. You could've waited for me, Luke. I know it's a lot to ask, but you could have waited for me."

Lucas' head spun wildly. He felt like he'd loved two women since the first time he'd ever been in love, and he was never quite clear on who he'd loved first. He loved them for different reasons. He loved them in different ways. But he didn't think he'd ever be able to pick one to dedicate every bit of his heart to. Or maybe he'd just picked the wrong one to try it with.

"And Lucas, eight years ago, you just proved it _again_. You can't wait. I don't know…is it because you want what's easy? Is it because you don't want to deal with all the drama?"

"I…I don't know," he confessed brokenly.

"I hope it's not," she said bluntly, honestly. "I hope it's because you love Brooke more, because you love Brooke entirely, and because you've given her your heart. Otherwise, Luke, you've damned us all to hell."

"I do love Brooke," he said, and he wasn't sure why. He did love Brooke, so it was an honest fact. He also said it because it had become an automatic reflex over the past few days. And he said it because he didn't want to disappoint the girl standing in front of him with so much tragedy in her dark green eyes.

"Okay," she said evenly, tearing her gaze from his. "So why are you standing here right now?"

"Because…even if you wouldn't call it friendship, Peyton, I want back what we had. I want you back in my life." _I need you back in my life_, he wanted to tell her, but knew that that would scare her away.

"I'm afraid to tell you exactly what it was. I'm afraid to go back to it. Because it was friendship plus so much more, and we can't go back there, Luke. Why do I feel like you can't comprehend that?"

"Because maybe I don't want to!" he cried rebelliously, frustrated with the conversation. He shrugged, softening his tone. "Because I still feel that way about you, Peyton, whatever way it was."

"Luke," she said, her voice mangled by emotion.

He opened his mouth again to speak, to tell her more. To give more, to ask for more. Just to have more.

"No!" she cried out. "I don't want declarations, Lucas. I don't want –"

"Peyton, I love you," he said simply. He didn't know what he was trying to tell her, but it was the one and only thought that made itself clear within the mess of his mind.

She buried her face in her hands. When she finally let her arms fall again, her curls were falling in her face and her chest was heaving in her effort to control her breathing. Her whole body seemed to be trembling. "That's it, right there, what I didn't want," she muttered. "I don't want you to define the parameters of that love, Luke, because the thought of your answer alone scares me to death. You've said that to me so many times…and never once did you mean it the way I wanted you to in that particular moment. I have a feeling that this is no exception."

* * *

"Fuck, I am so sick of crying," she mumbled, wiping away a tear before it could fully escape her eye. "Lucas, just leave."

"I can't do that. Not now."

"What am I to you?" she breathed impulsively, longing for some sort of closure on the infinite number of issues between them.

"My muse."

She was taken aback; her body actually jerked away from his a bit. Lucas looked as shocked by his words as she felt. "_Excuse_ me?"

"That didn't come out how I wanted it to," he rushed to explain. "You're not…well you are, but I didn't mean to say it…like that."

"So…I'm really useful in your life cause if I'm around you can write books and get some cash?" she demanded bitterly.

"I can put pen to paper," he said calmly. "No books, no money. Just a clarification of everything I've been thinking for a long time. You just…you helped me get it all out, I guess."

"I'm glad for you," she said carefully. "That you can do all of that again; it's good for you." She paced the couple steps she needed to take back over to the door. "Now, Lucas…just go home. Go home to your beautiful house and your beautiful family and write the beautiful book I know you can write."

"Can't we talk? _Really _talk."

"I'm hurting already, Luke, okay? I'm hurting, I am. So now you know – everyone knows. I don't need you to add to that. I can't handle you adding to that."

"You couldn't possibly think –"

"I think," she cut him off purposefully. "I think that I love you, too. As the boy who captured my heart in junior year of high school, and absolutely nothing more." She gulped. "I would…let's just think of each other that way, okay?" she all but pleaded.

He stayed silent and she chose to see it as agreement. "Goodnight, Luke," she muttered, nudging him out the door and starting to close it. She couldn't believe that they were doing all of this _again_. She knew that Lucas had a heart condition that affected his game, but she was beginning to wonder if it also caused his heart to be _the_ most indecisive heart that she'd ever encountered.

"Peyton –" he said again, flattening his palm against the door to keep her from slamming it in his face. There it was, the part of his heart that she'd long ago made claim to, resurfacing again. She wanted to shove it back at him, but a bigger part, a part of her she was ashamed of, was clinging to it as tightly as she could.

She couldn't bear to look at the unadulterated longing in his eyes, the vulnerability in his steady gaze. "You and me. After all these years," he said softly. "I still feel it in my heart…Don't you?"

She squeezed her eyes shut as her mind was assaulted with the memory of his lips against the skin of her abdomen in a motel room so very long ago, the infinitely tender way he'd handled her. She shivered when she finally made eye contact with him. "It was wrong then," she said firmly, her face falling into what she hoped was a mask of stone. "And it is _very_ wrong now."

The look on his face as he backed away, surrendering to her declaration, tugged painfully at her heartstrings. She closed her eyes again for a millisecond. "But…Luke," she whispered and he instantly turned back to her with undisguised hope in his eyes. Maybe his heart was divided, but it was her heart that was powerless to it all, that ultimately did them in. "I do," she confessed breathily. "Of course I do."

**A/N: **What's going to happen? Next chapter's a big one, and there might just be a revelation, something you've all been wondering about for a long time...


	20. Accompaniment

**A/N**: Thank you, as always. Reviews equal happiness.

Accompaniment: an additional part, a second player. Accompaniment serves to support and enhance the piece of music.

When she made the rash, uncontrollable decision to kiss him, it was meant to be a final farewell. But it didn't feel anything like she thought it would. The kiss was not a goodbye. It was more of a resurrection. And when his tongue sought hers out, she couldn't fathom ever letting go.

He kicked the door shut behind him, a growl rising in his throat as one of his hands cupped her cheek. His other hand gripped her finger, his fingers digging into her skin. It was as though he was afraid to let go, afraid to lose her.

"Luke," she murmured into his mouth as he backed her up, all the way into the kitchen until her lower back slammed into the counter.

It all happened in a blur, faster than she would have liked, too fast to remember. Before she knew it she was sitting on the counter, her legs locked around his waist. Her shirt was long gone, and she was undoing the buttons of his, pressing kisses to his chest as his hands ran along her thighs.

His hands gently forced her face back up to his, kissing her with passionate intensity that made her heart melt. "Mm," she murmured as he turned his attention to her jaw, and then her neck. She slipped her hands into his hair and tightened her legs around his waist, making him groan.

The feel of him, every single inch of him, filled her with more emotion than she knew how to handle as he buried his hand fist-deep within her curly hair, gently tilting her head back and delving his tongue into her mouth hungrily.

She could have kissed him forever, she really could have. He was her forever, that much had been made clear to her more times than she would have liked. But her hands moved on, making their way to his jeans, unbuttoning the top button with ease, longing for what she'd never had.

She had never had sex with Lucas Scott. That seemed like the strangest fact to her: she was so hopelessly in love with him, and yet they had never slept together. She was attracted to him, and his arousal pressing against her core was evidence that he was most definitely attracted to her, but they'd never had sex. They hadn't needed the physical aspect. The emotion had been enough.

More than enough.

His hands began to work off her jeans, too, unbuttoning and unzipping. He was dropping kisses against her collarbone and it took all of her effort to keep breathing.

"Oh, Luke…" she murmured, tears dripping down her cheeks. She wasn't sure what feeling they stemmed from, but she knew that it was probably a combination of everything swirling around in her heart. "God," she gasped, so mutedly she knew that he couldn't hear her, "I love you."

She'd been right. Lucas didn't hear her, he was busy dropping kisses at the valley of her breasts, but her own words shocked her back to the reality in which they truly existed, and a fresh batch of tears spilled from her eyes as she pushed him away with all the force she could muster.

* * *

"Hey, my beautiful boys," Haley crooned, bending down to kiss Sebastian's forehead. All of her children were gathered in the living room, watching TV and playing.

"_Mo-om_," the twins whined in unison, undoubtedly something they'd picked up from Jamie, "Beautiful is a word for _girls_."

Haley rolled her eyes. "Okay then, you handsome gentlemen, that better?"

They nodded, content with their answer, just as Jenny walked through in door in capri pants and a halter top, her cheeks red and a few strands of hair sticking to her cheeks.

Haley arched her eyebrows. "What have you been up to?"

Jenny grinned and stuck out her tongue. "Jordan and I were just hanging out at the river court."

Haley nodded, choosing to believe that they were doing nothing more than playing basketball. "You have any ideas for dinner tonight, honey?"

The teenager shrugged. "Anything's fine."

An idea struck Haley. "Hey, why don't we go out? Family night," she grinned.

Jamie tore his attention from the basketball game on the TV for a moment. "What about Jenny?"

She smiled at her son. "Jenny counts as family, you goof. We'll go in half an hour, okay? Jenny, sweetie, will you keep an eye on Sebastian?"

"Sure," Jenny replied happily, scooping Sebastian up and tickling him. His sweet laughter filed the room as she flopped down next to Jamie and asked, "Who's playing?"

He grinned at her and started to fill her in on the details of the game. Haley smiled at their easy interaction, thankful for the peacefulness of her home. She meandered into her bedroom, thinking about what to wear that evening, and was surprised to see her husband stretched out on the bed, lazily watching the same basketball game as his son had been watching in the living room.

"Hey, you," he said, his voice deep and gravelly from his half-asleep state.

"Hey, sexy," she replied, climbing onto the bed and stretching out beside him. "How long have you been home?"

He chuckled. "All days, Hales. The babysitter had a wedding to go to, remember?"

"Wow, right…I've just been so busy that I…"

"Yeah," he agreed, running a hand up and down her back. "You seem a little preoccupied."

"Just with all this CMC stuff."

"Yeah right," laughed Nathan. "You think that after thirteen years of marriage I don't know you better than that?"

"Nathan…" she sighed, tucking her head into his shoulder. "Brooke called me today. I have a feeling she and Lucas are still struggling with all of this. And she practically started crying when she told me that I needed to take care of Peyton for her."

"I talked to Peyton yesterday; I took her out for ice cream."

"And?" Haley prodded him, anxiously awaiting his answer.

"And she's strong, but she's still being evasive. She'll be alright, Hales."

"I hope so. Even if she is, Nathan…maybe it sounds selfish, but I worry about the rest of us."

"We'll be okay, too."

"I hope," Haley said mournfully, cuddling closer to his body. "God, who knew that one girl could cause so much drama?"

He laughed. "Speak for yourself, Haley James Scott. She was the sole cause of relationship drama in my life before I met you."

Haley laughed, too, rolling her eyes. "You were such a _sweet_ guy back then," she told him sarcastically.

"Never mind then. How am I now?"

"Now…" She smiled, looking right into his eyes. "Now you are everything to me." She leaned in, kissing him as her hands gently cupped his face.

"Mm," Nathan mumbled appreciatively, gently flipping them over so that he was hovering over her. "Jenny and Jamie are with the little kids, right?"

"Yeah, babe, but I told them we'd go to dinner in half an hour," Haley informed him in between kisses.

Nathan smirked loftily. "I can do a lot in half an hour."

"Nathan…_Nathan_!" she shrieked through giggles as he tackled her into a kiss so passionate and perfect that it immediately shut her up.

* * *

"Peyton…?" Lucas muttered in confusion, his lust-filled eyes darkening even more with his puzzlement. He regained his balance from when she'd pushed him and stared at her as though she'd lost her mind.

She slid off of the counter, zipping up her jeans again and redoing the button. "We. Cannot. Do. This."

"Peyt," he pleaded, his mind still hazy from the feeling of her lips on his, her hips against his.

"No! Luke!" she cried. "No!" She looked heartbroken and terrified and he felt like a total jackass. "We can't, we _can't_. You have a _kid, _Luke. Hell, _I_ have a kid. We have to be better than this!" she sobbed, wiping at her tears furiously.

The image of Miranda snuck into his head, her big brown eyes – Brooke's eyes – so full of love and admiration and trust when she looked at him. Guilt stabbed at his heart.

"How _dare_ you? How can you live with yourself like this? How can you do this to your wife?"

"Peyton, I…"

She clapped a hand over her mouth for a moment, trying to calm down, and thoughts of the life and the family he'd chosen drifted away. She just looked so good, so beautiful standing there, even with the tears on her cheeks. Her hair was messy, but it fell around her face angelically, and he could see the blotchy areas on her chest – her chest, her shoulders, her hips – from where his lips and hands had been.

"You know, Luke," she said sadly, disappointment shining out of those green eyes that used to captivate him so badly. "When I first met you, you were like everything I wasn't, and I felt so completed by you. You were so _good_. What happened to that boy?"

_You and Brooke_, he thought. Two beautiful girls. One that he'd been pining for for years, one that had drifted into his life in an airy, fun-filled breeze. One who was scared of what she felt for him, the other who embraced it and threw a new physicality into a relationship for the first time in his life. And all of a sudden, he lacked the power to make good decisions, and he'd never got it back.

"I loved that boy," Peyton whispered wistfully, but she wasn't talking to him anymore.

And he had loved her, too. He'd wanted everything with her. "Peyton," he said gently, his tone apologetic and comforting. "I –"

"Don't you _dare_ tell me that you love me, not again!" she cried fiercely. "You are such a jerk. You're just confused, like you were when you were a kid. You haven't grown up at all. Let me tell you something, Luke. You _don't_ love me, and sometimes I wonder if you ever did."

He stared at her, aghast. "Nothing could be further from the truth," he managed to get out, and was proud of himself for an instant. That was pretty good, considering how dumbstruck he'd originally been. Sometimes being an author paid off, bringing the right words to his lips at the right time.

Peyton paced away from him, brushing her fingers through her hair. She turned back to face him once there were quite a few feet in between them, tears making her eyes shimmer. "People who love you don't hurt you like…if you had ever really loved me, Lucas, you would have waited for me. You would never have made me the other woman, and you sure as hell wouldn't be doing the same thing now. Is it sex? Is that what it is? Then fine, Lucas, let's have sex. Let's get it out of your system so you can let me out of this, and let me move on."

"Peyton," he began angrily. "That's not fair."

"What?" she demanded, gesturing to her body. "You don't want me?"

Years of marriage had taught Lucas that there was no such thing as a right answer to that question, so he avoided it. "I didn't make you the other woman. You were pretty willing, if I remember correctly."

"You don't. I told you to let it go and you _wouldn't_."

"Because I loved you!" he yelled. "I wanted you because I loved you, but then Brooke found out and you got scared _again_, and _you_ were the one that walked away."

She shook her head, turning away from him again. "That's so goddamn easy for you to say. You just ran right back to Brooke."

"And you were practically dating Jake!"

She whirled back around to face him, fire in her eyes. She grabbed an oven mitt, the closest item to her, and flung it at him. "Leave Jake out of it! Don't say his name."

"Did you ever love him, Peyton?" he asked her, his voice no more than a whisper. "As much as you loved me?" If she said yes, then he could admit the same thing about Brooke, and somehow they would make it work. Somehow they would find their way back to what they'd had.

A strangled sob escaped her lips. "You _jackass_. You…" She grabbed a spatula and threw that at him, too. "I don't love me, do you understand me? I haven't in a long time and I'm not going back down that road, because you can't really love one girl. I'm _glad_ you never picked me, or I'd be the one sitting at home right now naively thinking that my husband had given me his heart. Brooke has my fucking sympathies."

"Peyton," he said quietly, feeling a sudden rush of regret. That question had been unfair. His actions were unfair. None of this was fair, none of it was right. And yet, at the same time, all of those wrongs blended together into something that felt so much like true, unshakeable love.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment." Her words were steady and calm, but there was something hysterical about her eyes.

"Please, Peyt –"

"_Leave_!" she screamed, flinging a plate at him. It missed him narrowly, slamming into the wall and shattering into five pieces.

He held up his hands in surrender, eyeing her in amazement and worry. "Okay," he murmured, backing toward the door. "I'm leaving."

* * *

Jenny laughed, clapping her hand over her mouth and nose to keep from spraying her drink all over the table. Jamie, on her left, was laughing just as hard. Haley laughed demurely, snickering behind her hand, while Nathan chuckled, a full-body kind of laugh. Nick and Noah were too young to understand the joke their father had just told, but they giggled nevertheless, wanting to join in the fun. Sebastian, too, giggled in his sweet two-year-old way. Jenny felt whole and full and safe in that moment.

"You're _funny_," she commented, almost in shock.

"Nice to know you have such faith in me, kiddo," Nathan laughed, punching her arm gently.

She grinned back as the waitress approached their table, distributing food with the automatic ease that came from years of doing her job. "Look at you all," she commented with a smile. "What a beautiful, happy family you have." She threw Haley and Nathan an extra smile before she said, "Enjoy," she walked off.

"See, Nicky, Noah?" Haley asked her twins teasingly, wearing a proud, loving smile. "She called us all beautiful." She shot another smile toward Jenny, expecting her to share in the joke, but Jenny couldn't get her lips to curve upward.

"You alright, Jen?" Nathan asked her, noticing this as well.

"Fine," she lied easily, digging into her food.

She'd let herself get absorbed by the Scotts. Haley loved her, and she knew that – Haley probably had enough love in her for everyone in the world who deserved it. Nathan was really great, Jamie, with his crush, was sweet, and the twins and the baby were so cute that they made her melt.

But she'd been reminded by the waitress' words that this was not her family. She hadn't been part of a family in this sense in a long time, not since her dad had disappeared from her life. Still, she had a family in her mom and her mom alone. Together, they fought the world, getting through it all. Sometimes Jenny missed the normalcy and simplicity that her life had possessed before, but Peyton was her mom, and she loved her. She missed her, and she felt bad for letting herself get sucked into another family and leaving her mom alone.

"Nathan?" she asked quietly. Haley was deep in conversation with Noah, so she wouldn't hear.

"Yeah? Are you okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Yeah, I just want to go see my mom. Is that okay? I mean, I know you paid for my food and everything, so I should probably eat it, but…"

"Don't be ridiculous," he said kindly, and she saw something like pride in his smile. "You go. I understand; Haley will, too."

"Thank you," she whispered, and slipped out of her seat and out of the restaurant, looking forward to another night spent in the bubble she and Peyton had always been able to create around themselves.

* * *

Once Lucas shut the door behind him, Peyton struggled to get control of herself. She took several deep breaths, trying not to think too much. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it back on, doing up a couple of the buttons. She bent down to pick up the oven mitt and the spatula before she gingerly picked up the five pieces of the plate. As she went to throw them away, one of them slipped against another, cutting into the skin of her hand.

She stared at it as blood seeped out of the cut, a dark red that spilled out against her skin. She threw that last piece of the plate into the garbage before running her hand under water. She grabbed a dishtowel and curled it around her hand before gingerly sitting down on the floor, unsure that she could move any more.

She took a peek at her hand under the dishtowel. It was still bleeding, but she couldn't even feel it. It hadn't hurt when her skin had been penetrated, and it didn't hurt now. She clutched her hand to her chest, curling into a ball as she pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on one bony knee. She wondered why she wasn't feeling pain. She wondered if she'd ever be able to feel again.

Without even realizing it, she'd started to cry, and only noticed it when it became difficult to catch her breath between sobs. She choked on something that may or may not have been her heart, and the gross acidity of vomit rose from her stomach to her mouth for the briefest of seconds. Every time she swallowed her throat stung, and then all of a sudden her hand started to throb.

"Mom?!"

Through her heartbroken haze, she saw Jenny's startled face staring down at her. She wanted to apologize, to comfort and reassure her daughter, but she had finally hit rock bottom and she honestly saw no way up. All she could see was the bright red of her blood seeping through the dishtowel and the anxiousness in her daughter's eyes.

* * *

Haley burst into the apartment above Tric, her heart pounding with worry as it had been since she'd received Jenny's babbling phone call for help. Jenny looked up at her the moment she walked in, her eyes full of tears and almost palpable relief. She looked panicked and frightened. "Aunt Haley!" she cried, that unadulterated relief filling her voice. It was the first time she'd addressed Haley as her aunt.

"It's okay, honey," Haley told Jenny automatically, crouching down next to the stricken mother and daughter.

Peyton was a bona fide mess. Haley took in her hastily – and incorrectly – buttoned shirt, her messy hair, her tear-streaked face, and the angry-looking new cut scarring her hand. "Oh, Peyton," she said sadly, confused and concerned about whatever had happened to her friend. "Sweetie, I'm sorry," she apologized quietly, gathering Peyton into a hug.

Peyton sank into her arms, sobbing, and Haley felt her heart constrict. "Shh," Haley hushed her soothingly. "Whatever it is, I'm here, and it'll be okay. Jenny…sweetheart, why don't you go back home? Explain the situation to Nathan and tell him I'll be home when she's ready, okay?"

"I want to stay," Jenny said, her voice full of raw emotion. She was clearly afraid, in the way only a kid can be when they witness their parent, the strongest person in their life, breaking down. She'd seen Peyton crack a few times throughout the week, more times than ever before, but she hadn't yet seen her break. She blinked harshly, uselessly, against her tears.

"I know, Jenny," Haley replied softly, keeping her voice steady and calm. "But Peyton and I need to talk, and it's going to be harder if you're here. I promise you – on my behalf and your mom's – that we'll explain everything else to you later. Okay? Honey?"

Jenny nodded and stood slowly, keeping her eyes trained on Peyton. She grabbed one of Peyton's sweaters from some clothes messily thrown over a chair and slipped it on before she exited the apartment, her footsteps barely making a sound. She paused in the doorway, and asked, brokenly, "You'll call me?"

"I promise," Haley swore again.

When the door closed behind Jenny, Haley exhaled gratefully. This would all be just a little easier with Jenny gone. "Okay…" she murmured. She let go of Peyton, who had sobbed herself into exhaustion, just for long enough to grab some couch cushions and pillows to settle them on. She sat next to her friend, propping a pillow between her back and the wall and placing a cushion in her lap. She patted the cushion lightly, indicating that Peyton should rest her head there. Peyton's head of blonde curls fell softly into her lap, and Haley's hands automatically threaded into her hair soothingly. "Shh, sweetie. Take a deep breath."

When Peyton's tears calmed and her breathing evened out a bit more, Haley reluctantly launched into her questioning: "Listen, honey, I know that…clearly, something bad has happened, and it's hard and it's messy. But I need you to talk to me. I need you to tell me things. I didn't mean anything I said; I want to be here for you. But I can't help you if you keep hiding things from me, Peyton."

Peyton's only response was a strangled sob, and Haley delicately pushed the strands of hair that had been stuck to Peyton's cheeks by her tears out of her face. She rubbed Peyton's arm soothingly, knowing that she had no more options but to wait and hope.

"Haley," Peyton finally said, her voice rough and raw. "I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry."

"Shh," Haley said firmly, dismissing her apology. "It's okay. It's okay," she repeated, waiting for more. When Peyton remained silent, she sighed. "You're not an idiot, okay? You're not and you never have been. You don't have to be sorry. Peyton, please, just talk to me."

"I…I don't even know where to begin. It's all been going on for too long. It's so fucked up – nothing should last this long. Only me, right?"

"I don't understand," Haley whispered, smoothing down Peyton's messy ringlets.

"Luke," Peyton got out, the single syllable mangled by her tears. "Me and…I, Luke and I…oh, God, Haley, we almost had sex."

Haley could feel her eyes widening more than she'd ever thought was possible. Lucas and Peyton? As far as she knew, there was no length to their love story. Lucas adored Peyton throughout school, had his eye on her since he and Haley began discussing their respective opposite sexes. Junior year, Peyton and Nathan broke up, Lucas had his chance. He went for it, she got scared. She regretted her decision and ran back to him, but he was with Brooke. That should have been the end.

But of course, it wasn't, and they'd hooked up when Peyton was emotionally vulnerable and Lucas, though he'd denied it, was as in love with her as he'd ever been. They continued to hook up behind Brooke's back, broke it off out of guilt, and Brooke found out anyway. The girls got bitter after Luke's brief, random encounter with Nicki, and decided to band together in their hatred of him. He returned and they all forged a friendship, which had ended in a Brooke-Lucas relationship while Peyton got together with Jake. As far has Haley had ever known, _that_ had been the end. Roughly half a year – that, as she knew it, was the extent of the saga of Lucas and Peyton.

Apparently, she'd been very, very wrong.

She felt the same way she had in junior year when she'd found out about their clandestine little romance: ashamed of them both, but a little more disappointed in Luke. He was married to Brooke and they had a _child_. Brooke had told her that they were thinking of trying for another baby. God, he was such an idiot. Peyton, too. Brooke had been her best friend, and she had Jenny to think about…yet Jake had mysteriously disappeared from the picture. Where the _hell_ had Jake gone?

"Peyton," she said softly.

"Don't hate me," her friend begged, so sadly that Haley felt guilty for her attitude.

"Oh, honey, no…I don't hate you. But Peyton, I know you've said over and over that you don't want to talk about it, but I need to know. It's killing me, and I can't understand anything unless you finally give me this vital piece of information. What happened with you and Jake?" She could hear the desperate curiosity in her own voice.

Peyton made a strangled, bitter sound that may have been a sob, or even…a laugh. She sniffled and her hand clutched the pillow her head rested on. "Jake's dead, Haley. He has been for years."

**A/N**: Saw that coming? Knew it all along? Surprised? Let me know!


	21. Interlude

**A/N: **Enjoy. Please review.

Interlude: music placed between the acts of a piece of theatre, meant to fill in the gaps

"B-but…" Haley stuttered, unable to believe her. "But…Peyton…you…you led us all to believe that something had gone wrong, that he'd left you. And Jenny. That you'd fought and you'd broken up and that it was…You never…"

"I know," Peyton whispered. "I know, and I'm sorry, but sometimes I…I think about it that way. I miss him, Haley, so much…y-you…you don't understand. He loved me more than I deserved. If I just think…that he left me, like everyone else, then it makes it easier. I know it's horrible, and I'm not proud of it, but it…helps me feel less guilty and it…it doesn't hurt as much."

Of course Jake had died. It was the only situation that really made sense, and deep down, Haley had always known that to be true, but Peyton had been sending all kinds of signals to the contrary. Jake never would have purposefully or voluntarily left Jenny. He fought for her, he loved her so much. And Haley honestly didn't think that he ever would have left Peyton voluntarily either. She knew how hard it had been on both of them when Jake left in high school. Jake had loved Peyton fully and passionately. "Oh, Peyton," she said mournfully. "I'm so sorry…but I don't understand. You have nothing to feel guilty for. You deserved Jake, of course you did."

"No," she insisted. "I didn't, I really didn't. He was in love with me, and I loved him, but never _quite_ as much, and I hate myself for it. God, Haley, I…do you remember after the school shooting and Ellie and everything? How I had that thing…that…fling with Pete?"

"Yeah, I remember, he came to Rachel's cabin."

"Yeah. Well. We kept seeing each other after that, and he invited me to come see him over a weekend in Chicago. My dad was hesitant about letting me go, but he agreed. Before I left he told me…to follow my heart. And I knew, after that, that Pete wasn't where my heart was telling me to go. It was…Lucas. It had always been Lucas. I…I kissed him during the school shooting, Haley. Did he ever tell you that?"

"No," Haley breathed, shocked by her friend's revelation.

"It wasn't supposed to mean anything. I thought I was going to die. But I realized that I loved him. I'd loved him…since we first kissed, since we first locked eyes, even. Since he told me my art mattered. But he and Brooke…they were happy, and I love them both, and I just couldn't…fuck things up for them. So I went to…my second choice," she admitted, ashamed. "The only other guy I'd ever really loved."

"Jake," Haley whispered.

"Yeah. And I was happy again, for those days. I was in love again, and Jake and Jenny were…so perfect. I loved them so much. I felt whole and safe and like I was part of a family. When I tucked her in…Jenny called me Mama, and I never wanted to let go of how I felt when she said that." She took a shaky breath in. "I asked Jake to marry me."

Haley couldn't resist a smile. "We really like to do things early, don't we? What'd he say, hon?"

"Yes. He said yes, and I felt…so, so good when I fell asleep that night. Everything felt right. But then I woke up, and Jake was staring out the window with this…sad, thoughtful expression on his face, and…he told me that, in my sleep, I said…_I love you, Lucas_."

Haley gasped but didn't speak, simply tucked Peyton's hair behind her ear yet again, running her fingers through the blonde strands comfortingly.

"He told me he loved me, but he sent me back here. To deal with it. I'd lost Jake, and I was hurting, and I just felt like I needed to be honest, so I told Brooke. I told her that I still had feelings for Lucas."

Haley winced, awaiting Peyton's telling of Brooke's reaction.

"She slapped me and called me a selfish bitch, and told me our friendship was over. I felt really…alone," Peyton shrugged sadly. "I went back to Jake the second your wedding ended and we all walked back down the aisle. My dad called to tell me about the accident, but he told me that everyone was alright, so I…I didn't call, and I'm sorry about that. I should have, but it hurt too much. I didn't want to deal with Tree Hill ever again."

"You didn't want to deal with Lucas ever again," Haley corrected quietly. No wonder this was so hard on Peyton, and on Brooke. There was more to the story than Haley had ever known.

"Yeah," Peyton agreed faintly.

"So…you and Jake, you did get married?"

"The day I went back. Same day as your wedding," she shrugged, shooting Haley a quick smile before her lips slipped back into a desolate frown. "Nothing formal. No white dress, no tux, no family except for Jenny. We were both wearing jeans and plaid shirts and Converses…and it was just so… comfortable." She exhaled, her breathing still uneven and full of effort, as though she just wanted to give up on it all.

Haley was an intuitive person; she could easily pick up on the signals. Peyton was leaving something out here. Not everything had fallen perfectly into place, not yet, especially not where Lucas was involved. "Hey. What aren't you telling me, Peyton?"

Peyton sighed heavily. "I'm so tired of this, Haley."

Haley bit her lower lip to keep from blurting anything out, anything she would regret. She was tired of it, too. She just wanted the truth, and every single bit of it. She was sick and tired of being kept in the dark. Always, someone was keeping something secret. "Peyt," she said simply, nothing but an abbreviation of the other woman's name. And she waited.

"I…I hung around Savannah for about a month after Jake…after he…it was just too hard, but I knew I had to keep going and living for Jenny. So I packed us up and moved out to L.A. I got a job there, at this record company. Lucas found me. His novel's editor was my boss' sister. Fate's a bitch, huh?" she asked wryly. "He came out there. I don't know what he told you, or Brooke, or anyone, but one day I got to work and he was just…there."

"What happened?"

A lonely tear fell down Peyton's cheek. "He told me that…he'd made a mistake. He told me that he regretted picking Brooke over me, and that…he wished he could have been the one there for me, instead of Jake. He said that he'd regretted it every day since I'd left, and that he hated that he'd called Jake for me when he really should have been the one helping me out." She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together.

Haley continued to stroke her hair patiently. "What did you say?" she asked softly.

"I said that I couldn't do it. I was a mess, Haley; I was surprised anyone even agreed to hire me. My boss was an ass, but he said he saw strength and ability in me, and I wasn't about to question that, I needed the money. I had to support Jenny; she was only five and she needed to start school and be fed and have a home and everything. I'd been waiting so long to hear those words from Lucas' mouth."

She frowned. "What words?"

"He told me that he loved me. He said, _the school shooting, that wasn't just because you were going to die. I know it was more. It was, wasn't it?_ Brooke had assumed that I'd left for Jake, so I guess he thought that, too, but when I moved out to L.A. I think Lucas thought it was over between Jake and I, that we'd broken up. He had no way to know. But I couldn't even react to what he said, I was such a disaster. Jake had just died and I was mourning him…and God, Haley. I…fuck," she whispered, wiping away her tears. "I wanted to go with him," she confessed through a sob. "I wanted to let him save me, and take me away, and I wanted to be with him and love him forever, and I will always hate myself for feeling that way. I loved Jake, Haley, I _did_."

"I know," she soothed.

"But Jake was gone and I missed him and Jenny needed me…and I couldn't believe that he'd waited that long, made me suffer that much. I told him that I couldn't do it, and that he should go back to Brooke. He kissed me, and my world lit up, filled up…flipped back the right way. Then…he asked me…if I loved him…and I couldn't lie, I couldn't say no, so I just…ran away. I walked out of the building and I never went back to my job. I was angry and sad and it just…fuelled me. I started my own label. Lucas came here and…he must have proposed to Brooke right away, because three months later she came to L.A. and chased after me for a week."

Haley cleared her throat painfully, her own eyes filled with tears. "We all thought Luke was in New York that weekend." Lucas _had_ been in New York that weekend. He'd just found out the publishing date for his book. He must have gone to see Peyton right after he heard the news. When he came back to Tree Hill, he was overjoyed when he told Brooke, and he'd bought a ring. They got engaged that night.

Haley wanted to kill him.

"I loved Jake, and I need him, and I miss him so much," Peyton whispered, burying her head in the pillow.

"Of course you do," Haley crooned comfortingly. "Peyton…honey. Do you…do you still wish…do you still love Lucas?" She finally asked it point-blank.

Peyton burst into a fresh batch of tears. Her words were earnest despite the easily-heard sarcasm in her answer, which she framed as an obvious question: "It's like you and Nate say, right?"

Always and forever. Haley had her answer.

* * *

Lucas felt shaky and a little bit sick as he entered his house that evening, feeling like the bastard he knew he'd been. He tiptoed through the darkened hallways of his home, pausing to slip into Miranda's room for a moment, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

There was light from the master bedroom filtering into the corridor, but it was late, and Lucas chose to believe that Brooke had fallen asleep with the light on. She tended to do that when he wasn't home, a trait he'd always found so sweet.

But she was wide awake, sitting up in bed in the room lit dimly by lamps and candles. Brooke was reclining against several pillows in only some expensive Clothes over Bro's lingerie, reading _Cosmo_. She looked up and her face was instantly brightened by a coy smile. "Hey, Broody. You're back late."

"Yeah…sorry."

"Shooting hoops by yourself again like the sports freak you are?" she asked teasingly.

"Something like that," he muttered, removing his shirt for the second time that evening.

Brooke tossed her magazine aside, slipping the strap of her camisole off her one of her shoulders. "Come join me, handsome."

"Brooke, I…" _I am a total asshole_. "I really feel sick right now, I'm sorry. You look…gorgeous, but I think I need to take some Tylenol and sleep."

Brooke pouted, looking uneasy. "You don't feel good," she repeated.

"I know that sounds lame," he sighed, walking over to her. "But I really feel crappy right now." He leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead. "I love you," he said, wishing that it didn't sound like he'd said those same words to someone else moments ago.

* * *

"Mom!"

Peyton pulled her arms out of her blanket cocoon and extended them, welcoming her daughter's hug. Jenny launched herself at her full-force, nearly knocking the wind out of Peyton as she threw herself at her in a hug. "Oh, honey." Peyton held her tightly, cradling her. "It's okay; I'm sorry I scared you, I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"What _happened_?" Jenny demanded, torn between anger, relief, and love. "What's _going on_? Why do you _never_ tell me anything anymore? We used to…why do you keep so much _from_ me?"

Peyton sighed sadly. She was exhausted. Haley had sat up with her all night after her painful confessions, trying to help her talk through her emotions, but from the moment Peyton let Haley know of her feelings for Lucas, she'd felt herself shutting down. Haley had taken good care of her, almost motherly care of her, with warm blankets and herbal tea, and nothing words, but she could only be pushed to a certain point. She could only handle so much emotional stress, so much heartache. "My little girl," she said, love and sorrow blending together in her voice. "I'm so sorry." She tenderly pushed Jenny's hair away from her face.

"I want to go home," Jenny sobbed, uncontrollable tears falling down her cheeks. "I hate this. I wish we'd never come here. I wish…I want things back to how they were! I thought things could be okay here but then…_this_, and I just can't…I know I said I wanted to stay, but you were right, okay? We need to go back. I want to go home."

Peyton met Haley's eyes over her daughter's head. Jenny didn't even know the half of it, and already it was proving to be too much. She held Haley's gaze, begging for help.

Haley stepped forward instantly. "Jenny, honey, you can't go! You're amazing at what you do, and this camp is so good for you. And I…I don't want you to leave, and neither does Nathan or the twins or Sebastian…and Jamie _definitely_ doesn't want you to leave," she added, trying to coax a smile out of the teen.

Jenny wiped at her tears angrily. "I want the truth," she said firmly, speaking only to her mother. "I know you told me to stop asking but I want to know, I _need_ to know."

"Babe…there's…it's all so complicated, and I know that it's hard for you to understand, and I am _sorry_," she said earnestly. "You can't even understand how sorry I am, but I need to get my life straightened out before I can discuss all of this with you."

She glared in response. "_I'm_ part of your life. You used to tell me I _was_ your life."

"Honey, you are!" Peyton cried, almost shocked that Jenny could possibly think any differently.

"So _talk_ to me."

"Jen…you're only fourteen."

"Don't give me that crap," Jenny scoffed angrily.

Peyton could feel her eyes light up with anger for the briefest moment. "Watch it," she warned her teenaged daughter, refusing to be thrown back into this drama again.

"No! I'm _sick_ of this, Mom! Can you just talk to me, _please_? I can understand. I'm not _three_. Everything was okay with us for a little while. Like before. What, are you trying to _protect _me?"

"Why do you say that like it's so ridiculous?" Peyton asked softly.

"Because you _can't_! It's _stupid_, Mom! You've been lying to me my entire life, and it's not exactly making things easier now, is it?"

"Sweetheart, you can't understand that. I know it angers you and it hurts you when I say that," she continued rationally, trying to win Jenny over. "But my past is…it's mine, hon, and it's a mess, and you just need to give me a little time before I _can_ talk to you. I don't even know what's going on myself."

"Yeah. I guess you never do."

"Jenny!" Peyton was not the only one aghast. Haley spoke Jenny's name softly too, on a sad, delicate whisper.

Jenny gave Peyton a bitter look before she turned to Haley momentarily. "I still don't even know what the hell our stupid connection to you is! Maybe I'm really _your_ daughter, who knows," she said, her sadness making her brutally sarcastic and irrational. "But would you just stay out of this, please?"

"Jenny, do not talk to your aunt that way," Peyton told her firmly, sitting up straight. "Haley knew you when you were young, and she loves you, and she's been a great mentor to you. She's one of my best friends, one of the most important people in my life." She didn't look at Haley as she spoke, only Jenny. She knew what she'd see in Haley's eyes – shock and gratitude and love – and she just couldn't deal with it.

"So _what_?" Jenny bit out, tears welling in her beautiful eyes, deep and intense like her dad's. "Why does all of this fucking matter?"

"Jenny!" Peyton cried. Her daughter was generally well-behaved, mostly because Peyton, despite her cautious side, was a fairly liberal parent. They fought rarely, but when they did, it was moderately civil and they always made up before they fell asleep. Neither of them liked to leave things until morning. Peyton had expected some rebellion in Jenny's teens, but hadn't gotten much. Jenny had never dropped the 'f-bomb' in Peyton's presence before – Peyton always thought it was just something you didn't say in front of your mom. She knew that she never would have dared to, had she reached the point where she had the chance.

Jenny sighed and pressed her lips together before her face slowly arranged itself into a scowl. The petulance of her pouty facial expression made her look at least four years younger and devastatingly innocent. "I miss Dad," she muttered in a very small, very sad voice.

"Baby," Peyton breathed, feeling as though her heart had had an anvil dropped upon it. Her voice was full of love and sympathy for her little girl. Jenny was so like her, so like Ellie, even: full of a fierce sense of independence and pride, of self-sufficiency and strength. She didn't like to vulnerable, and she hated to admit to her sorrows. It was for those reasons that she's never come out and bluntly admitted how much she missed Jake.

Peyton reached out to her, but to her surprise, Jenny recoiled and shook her head, stumbling to her feet. "You don't care how I feel – you don't care about me! You've _never_ been honest with me and I just can't take it anymore. Everything's changed, and you're not my mother. Nothing can ever go back to how it was; you've ruined it all. I hate you," she said in the same broken voice, and dashed out of the apartment.

* * *

"Hey, kid," Nathan said, standing in the doorway of Jamie's room. "Why aren't you asleep right now?"

"Woke up early," Jamie shrugged. He was lying in bed, lazily playing an NBA-related video game.

Nathan turned off the TV and the overhead light.

"Hey! I was winning!"

He smiled patiently. "You can win again later, bud."

Jamie sighed dramatically, setting aside the controller. "What's up, Dad?"

Nathan shrugged. "I just wanted to check in with you. I know things have been a little insane this past week. Your mom and Jenny still aren't home tonight, so I've been worried about them."

"Yeah, but I'm okay. I'm sure Mom's fine, too."

"Yeah, your mother's a smart woman. It's just…I hate to break it to you…but I think it might be like this all summer. You think you can battle through that?"

"Yeah," Jamie shrugged. "It's not that bad." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Is Jenny gonna be okay?"

Nathan grinned, unable to help himself. "Ohhh, you've got it baaaad," he drawled, chuckling.

"Dad!" his son protested, embarrassed.

"Hey, it's okay, I understand. If anything's true in this life, Jamie, it's that Scott men have got it bad for Sawyer girls," he said with a sigh, thinking of his brother.

Jamie frowned. "Jenny's not a Sawyer."

Nathan shook his head. "She's as good as one, believe me. Just like her mother at that age."

"And what does that mean?" Jamie asked curiously.

He lifted his eyebrows. "A heartbreaker," he replied, only partially teasing as he leaned over to ruffle his son's hair. "I'm going to go back to bed, and I want you to get some more sleep. You're going to need it if you don't want me to kick your butt this afternoon."

Jamie's eyes lit up. "What are we playing?"

"Whatever you want," Nathan shrugged, smiling at his son. "Sleep tight. I love you."

* * *

Haley had witnessed a fair amount of heartbreak in her twenty-nine years. She'd seen it stem from a myriad of causes and had seen it in varying degrees of strength. But never in her life had Haley been looking directly into someone's eyes as it happened to them. Not until that moment.

She actually saw something snap in Peyton's watery green orbs the second those poisonous words left Jenny's lips. She knew, instinctively, that Jenny had never told Peyton that she hated her, not even during a four-year-old temper tantrum or a ten-year-old fit of indignant rage.

Peyton was already an emotional trainwreck, and it was clear that Jenny's words had killed her.

"She didn't mean it," Haley offered. She meant it with all her heart, but the words sounded lame even to her own ears.

"Bullshit. She'd pick you over me any day." Peyton seemed to have picked up on her daughter's surly sense of betrayal.

Haley frowned at her negativity. "That's not true," she insisted.

"I'm just not cut out for this," Peyton murmured as she struggled not to cry anymore.

"For what, honey?" Haley prodded gently.

"The wife thing. The mother thing. The not screwing over your ex-best friend by making out with her husband thing."

Haley sighed and crossed the room to sit next to her. She placed a hand over Peyton's. "Listen to me. You were all Jake could have ever asked for. He loved you _so much_, Peyton. And so does Jenny, she loves you more than I can tell you. You're an _amazing_ mom, and I never should have told you otherwise – just like I never should have told you that you're a bad friend. You're not. Definitely not to me, and not to Brooke. Everyone makes mistakes. Lucas sought _you_ out, not the other way around. It's a mess right now, I know, but everything will work out, Peyton. Everything'll be okay."

There were deep, dark circles under Peyton's eyes, and she could muster up no more than a bitter smile. "I stopped believing that line a long time ago, Haley."

**A/N**: Let me know what you think, and thank you, everybody, for reading. :)


	22. Glissando

**A/N**: I save chapters on my phone before I post them, and that means that I can't edit them, which would be why I have some typos and why I never seem to have an immediate response to the opinions voiced in your reviews anymore. Rest assured that I do know your ideas and what you're thinking and that I do take them into account...I just won't be able to respond right away.

Oh, one last thing…I wrote another L/P oneshot, because you are such awesome readers that you really do deserve some honest-to-god interaction…so feel free to check that out. Anyway, now that I've promoted my own work… ;)

Glissando: derived from the French word "glisser" meaning "to slide", this is a musical direction for an easy transition from one note to the next; it provides a break for the performer

"Nathan…_Nathan_. Babe, wake up."

Haley's frantic voice filtered into Nathan's sleep-filled, comfortable world, and he groaned. "What?" he muttered without opening his eyes.

"We need to talk. Can you please wake up?"

He sighed, but the tone of her voice convinced him to force his eyelids up. She was perched on her side of the bed still in the same clothes she'd worn to dinner last night, and her eyes gleamed with tears. He reached out automatically in concern, gently running his hand from her elbow to her hand, where he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Hales…what is it?"

She started lots of sentences. "I need…we should…Lucas is such a…look, I have to tell you…Peyton…Jenny's…everything's so…" She sighed, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

"It's okay," Nathan soothed.

"Let's…let's go downstairs and…sit. I'll make some tea. There's a lot we need to talk about."

Nathan kept his hold on her hand, keeping her from moving away from him. "Hales…should I be worried?" he asked, fully concerned.

Her laughter was shaky and rough, free from any sort of mirth. "I know I am."

* * *

Nathan watched his wife worriedly. She was stirring milk into her tea, her spoon gently scraping against the bottom of her mug, making a sound that Nathan had always loved for some reason. It was probably because Haley made him tea when she was taking care of people – the sound of a spoon scratching lightly at the bottom of a ceramic cup always reminded Nathan of comfort.

But it was going on too long in the pale-blue morning light that was flooding their kitchen. Haley was staring down into her cup of tea, tears swimming in her eyes. The only sounds in their home were the scraping of the spoon against the mug in its steady pattern, and Haley's periodic sniffles.

"Baby?" Nathan asked her quietly. "Haley, can you talk to me? Please?"

She dropped her spoon into her cup, letting in hit the edge with a _clang_ that sounded particularly loud considering the silence around them, and buried her face in her hands.

"Hales," he said sadly, his worry mounting.

She straightened up in her chair, swallowing hard and staring hard at something behind Nathan before her saddened eyes drifted over to meet his. "Jake's dead," she whispered.

Nathan pulled back in his chair, away from her words. He was shocked. "But…no. Peyton was…she made it sound like…"

"I know."

"She…fuck, I should have known," he muttered. "It's the only real thing that makes sense, doesn't it? Jake loves…he loved Jenny so much that he went to jail for her, he hid for her, he chased her across the country…he gave up everything for her. He never would have left her. And he never would have left Peyton."

Tears slid down Haley's cheeks. "People always leave, right? I wish someone on this stupid planet would prove that idiotic theory of hers _wrong_."

"I know," Nathan agreed softly. He moved from the chair across from hers to the chair right next to hers, pulling her into a one-armed hug. He hated to see Haley cry. He hated to see anyone cry, but his wife's tears tore at his heart the most.

"It doesn't feel right, you know? I didn't ask her for details, but it had to be about eight years ago, before she moved to L.A. And in my mind I just keep seeing her alone and afraid and having to take care of Jenny…we should have been there for her, Nathan. We should have been there."

"It's not our fault, Haley. We didn't know."

"I feel like I _should_ have known. Peyton was as good as my sister, and Jake wasn't just her husband; he was our friend, too."

"Wait…" Nathan said slowly, filling in the gaps in his mind. "So they were married? Peyton and Jake?"

"Yeah, they…they got married the same day we did."

Nathan scowled. Peyton and Jake hadn't even been dating when they got married, that was… "Oh," he said, suddenly feeling stupid. "Second wedding, I gotcha. We've got to stop getting married all the time, huh?" His comment was a little random, and a little silly, but he didn't do well under the pressure of emotional situations. Jokes were a good fallback.

Haley shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. "I could marry you one hundred times, and then I'd do it a thousand more."

He smiled back. "Yeah…"

"Oh, Nathan…my head is spinning. So much makes sense now, so many things I never wanted to make sense, not this way."

Nathan pulled her closer to him, kissing her forehead. "Tell me everything, okay? Maybe I can help you."

"I don't…know where to begin."

"You were in a panic about Jenny when you left last night. Why don't you start there?"

Haley nodded and sighed. "She called me from Peyton's place. Peyton was a mess. Her hand was bleeding and she was curled up in a ball on the floor…her shirt wasn't buttoned up right."

Nathan arched his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah," Haley breathed.

"Another rendezvous with Chris Keller?" he asked awkwardly. Peyton could do so, so much better than that, even if she was a bit of a mess. Besides, that was supposed to be over.

"I wish."

Nathan balked. "Whoa. Okay. What? I thought you and Peyton were friends."

Haley squinted at him. "You're not making sense."

"No friend would wish Chris Keller on another friend."

She swatted at his chest. "Shut _up_. It wasn't Chris."

"So then who was it? A bartender?"

"Where did that come from?"

"Well, she's been keeping a pretty low profile…the only place she's really been to is Tric. Besides, it's convenient: _down_ some drinks _downstairs_, stumble _upstairs_ to hook _up_…"

"You are such an idiot sometimes, you know that?" Haley asked disbelievingly.

"Says the girl who's married me twice."

"Point taken," she sighed. "I guess I should just come out and say this."

Nathan's heart sank, and the room was suddenly flooded with a sombre atmosphere that forced any levity out. It definitely hadn't been a bartender.

"It was Lucas," she whispered, studying his eyes intently to gauge his reaction.

His jaw dropped. There was underlying sexual tension between Lucas and Peyton; Nathan wasn't stupid, he knew that. Lucas hadn't been able to deny their unmistakable attraction, and he knew that Peyton was probably still pining for him in some very subdued way, but he hadn't thought… "Luke and Peyton had _sex_?" he spluttered. It was at moments like this that he wanted to call his brother a bastard, for totally different reasons than the ones he'd had back in high school.

"No…she said they _almost _had sex."

"My brother is a…" Nathan held back the string of profanities he wanted to release. "God! Who does he think he is, fucking with her heart like that? Is Peyton okay?"

"Not really. She's…" Haley sighed again. "There's more."

"What more could their possibly?" Nathan scoffed angrily.

"Too much more," Haley muttered. "More than there should be. Listen, do you remember when Lucas found out –"

"Morning." The soft, delicate voice carried through the quiet of the house, jarring Nathan and Haley out of their conversation.

"Hey, sweetheart," Haley cooed as Nathan took in Jenny's appearance. She looked like hell, with red rims around her tired blue eyes. It struck Nathan in that moment that Jenny had lost a parent, that she'd lost the man who had loved her so much, and that Peyton was all she had left.

"Hi," Jenny replied hoarsely, taking a few tentative steps toward them.

Haley stood up, walked over, and wrapped her arms around the teenager, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It's gonna be okay, honey. I'm so sorry."

Nathan watched them embrace, wondering if Jenny knew just how many things Haley was sorry for. Every one of the things they'd missed. Yes, Peyton had left. Yes, she'd cut them out. But his wife was right: they were the closest of friends, and they should have been there.

"Thank you," Jenny murmured in response.

Haley stroked her hair, making a sympathetic face. "Come sit down, okay? What can I get for you? Tea? I'll even let you have coffee today," she offered, mustering up a smile.

"No, thank you," Jenny replied stiffly. "I'm not really all that hungry."

"Sure, sweetie, okay. Jenny…can you help me out? Can you let me know what I can do for you?"

Jenny smiled sadly, looking like she was about to burst into tears. "I really don't know."

"Come sit down," Nathan told her gently, repeating his wife's request.

"I was actually thinking…maybe I'd go out for a little bit."

"You want to see your mom?" Haley asked instantly, and Nathan picked up on her tone. Clearly Jenny and Peyton had had another showdown of sorts in the aftermath of the Lucas debacle, undoubtedly about the ever-present fact that Peyton had concealed a lot from her daughter.

Jenny shook her head forcefully, her hair hitting her in the face. "Not yet. I can't."

"Okay," Haley agreed comfortingly.

"I just wanted to go for a run. I need to move. Is that okay? I'll be back soon."

Haley hesitated, but Nathan could see that Jenny was itching to get out of there, to run away and clear her head. "Honey, I don't know if you should…"

"Let her go, Hales," Nathan told her quietly. He turned to Jenny. "You promise you'll be back soon?"

"Promise," Jenny told him seriously, her voice flooding with relief.

Nathan nodded toward the door. "Off you go. Be careful."

"I will," she swore, and practically bolted off.

"Nathan," Haley cried, "are you sure, she's not exactly…"

"She's going to be fine, Hales. She's like Peyton, you know that. It's all about space and time. Hey," he said softly, holding out a hand to her. She walked over to him, taking it as she sat back down. "Now what were you about to tell me?"

Realization overpowered the worry in Haley's eyes. "Something that could hurt that little girl," she sighed. "Something that could hurt a lot of people."

"Don't hold stuff back from me. Okay? If it hurts, then I want to hurt with you."

She seemed to melt right before his eyes, cupping the back of his neck as she pulled him into a kiss. "That right there," she breathed against his lips. "_That_ is why I married you twice."

* * *

"Lucas," Brooke sighed contentedly as she rolled over in bed, reaching out for her husband. Her hands encountered cool sheets instead.

She frowned instantly, her lips, still a little glossy from last night, slipping into a pout. The sticky pink substance on her coating her lips made her uneasy. That stuff was supposed to get kissed off last night.

She pulled her heaviest bathrobe over on top of her skimpy nightgown before she walked into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Every morning that she'd woken up for the past decade, positive phrases entered her mind when she gazed at her reflection. About what a perfect night she'd just had with her husband, about her most recent successful business deal, about how precious her daughter was, about how perfect her shopping trip with Haley had been. When she saw herself in the mirror she saw a mother, a wife, a friend, a businesswoman. This morning, she braced her hands on the counter as she studied her doppelganger. Was hers the face of a woman whose husband was pathetically still in love with someone else?

Giggling found her ears, as though it had filtered up the stairs and through the hallways with the specific purpose of encountering her. A small smile lit up the face of the girl in the mirror, and she followed the sound out of the room, through the corridor, and down the stairs.

The instant she entered the kitchen she thought back to standing in front of the mirror and hoped to god that she'd found her answer: _No_. Lucas was wearing an apron and a dorky chef's hat that she'd never seen before, expertly flipping pancakes. Miranda was perched on the counter, with just enough distant between her little body and the stove to put a parent's mind at ease, giggling incessantly at her father's antics. Lucas was talking to her in an accent that was a mixture of French and German, explaining "ze technique of za flip".

"Mommy! Daddy's being silly," Miranda reported the way only a little kid can.

"I see that," Brooke responded simply, reaching over to pinch her daughter's cheek fondly, making Miranda giggle and squirm. "You feeling better?" she asked her husband, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. Its temperature was unremarkable, neither hot nor cold, though he seemed worn down.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Probably just strain on my eyes, staring at my laptop for so long," he shrugged.

"You shouldn't make yourself sick," Mira lectured him.

Lucas chuckled. "Thank you, baby girl, I know." With an effortlessness that surprised Brooke, he flipped two pancakes onto two separate plates. Quickly, he buttered them all, drizzled syrup over them, a placed a strawberry on top. He held a plate out to each of them. "Voila. For my girls."

Miranda clapped before she accepted the plate, her brown eyes bright. She was about to dig in, but Brooke stopped her. "Hold your horses, little girl. Go sit at the table. Princesses never eat sitting on top of counters." She turned to Lucas, who was rinsing the frying pan. "Where's your breakfast?" she asked.

"I already ate; I've been up for a while. I was actually going to go for a run. Build my energy back up."

"But Luke, if you're sick, that's probably not a good id –"

Before she'd even finished her sentence, he'd shed his chef outfit, kissed her forehead, waved to Miranda, and was halfway out the door.

"Why's Daddy running away?" Miranda asked innocently, puzzled.

Brooke whirled around to face her daughter again. "She's not," she insisted, though she was scared that that was exactly what he was doing.

* * *

"Okay…"

Haley sat on the hard-backed kitchen chair, anxiously watching her husband pace around in a fit of rage. "Nathan," she tried, for what felt like the infinite time, but she wasn't getting through to him. He just needed to vent.

"So Lucas goes to New York. Finds out his book is being published. Instead of coming home to celebrate with us, and his girlfriend, he _takes_ off to Los Angeles, _ambushes_ Peyton with some crazy declaration of his love despite the fact that she's still mourning the _death_ of her _husband_. Then he _kisses_ her like the total asshole he is and asks her to run away with him, to be with him. She does the smart thing, the _reasonable_ thing and walks away even though deep down she wants to go, and _eight years later_, he shows up on her doorstep to ambush her again and they…they do that Lucas – Peyton thing where they stop thinking and start making out. Peyton, again, has the good sense to push my idiot brother away. She's a mess, Jenny finds her, and now Jenny's a mess, too. Did I leave anything out?"

"Um…the day after Lucas asked Peyton to take him back he proposed to Brooke," Haley added hesitantly, not wanting to fuel his rage.

"Idiot! Ass! Fucking –"

"Nathan," she berated him. "In all fairness – logical fairness – I have to point out that Lucas didn't know that Jake had died, just like none of us did."

"That doesn't make any of it right," he fumed.

"No, of course not. But it does make it a tiny bit less wrong."

Nathan squinted at her suspiciously. "Are you _defending_ him?"

"I…I'm in shock, just like you are, but there's a part of me, a part of me buried deep down…that isn't surprised."

To her surprise and relief, Nathan seemed to deflate as he collapsed back down into his chair. "Yeah. I guess that in some ways I'm not, either."

"Why is that?" Haley asked him desperately, as though he had all the answers to the unanswerable questions.

"Because it's Lucas and Peyton," he sighed. "And I guess we were idiots to think that that could change. I mean…Peyton still doesn't lock her goddamn door. How could we have believed that she wouldn't still be…" He shook his head, shrugging, "one half of Peyton and Lucas."

* * *

Jenny bounced the ball against the asphalt before setting her eyes on the basket and jumping up, flinging it into the air. The ball slipped in smoothly, free of barriers and complications.

"If only it were that easy," a male voice said, stealing the thought right from her mind.

She whirled around, alarmed, and found herself staring at Lucas Scott. "Lucas Scott," she said aloud, making a weak attempt to smile. "My mom's Epic Ex. What brings you here so early in the morning?"

He gave her a weak smile in return. "God, you've got…"

"Spunk? Sass?" she supplied, the typical terms she was used to adults bestowing upon her.

"That and more," he laughed lightly, sending his own basket through the hoop. Jenny snatched his rebound out of the air. "Your mom told you about me?" he asked guardedly.

"Nope. You want to give me some details?"

He chuckled. "I think that's up to your mother, Jenny; I'm sorry."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I know." Too bad she'd just screamed at her mother. She had a feeling she wouldn't be getting any details any time soon.

"You're good," Lucas told her simply.

"You've seen me play for about two seconds. This could be a fluke."

"I know good when I see good."

Jenny took her opportunities as they came. She rested the basketball against her hip and looked Lucas squarely in the eye. "And I know someone who's into my mom when I see someone who's into my mom."

His eyebrows shot up and he swallowed hard, confirming her suspicions. "Jenny, no; I haven't seen your mom in years, and I'm married and – "

"Married. Right. I'd believe that one if I was five. I know I'm still a kid to you because you're, like, twice my age…but I'm not stupid."

He held up his hands in surrender. "I never meant to imply that you were. You've got to give me a little credit though, right? The last time I saw you, you were still a baby – I accredited you with four more years of knowledge."

She bit back the smile that tugged at her lips, bouncing the basketball over to him.

Lucas caught it, giving her a contemplative look. "How's your head, Jenny Jagielski?" he asked her kindly, as if he was truly interested in her wellbeing. And she believed that he was.

For that reason and that reason alone, she gave him the truth. Sighing and gesturing for him to shoot, she said, "I really didn't want to like you."

* * *

When there was a knock on the door, Brooke's heart soared. She hoped that it was Lucas, having forgotten his key.

"Be right back, baby," she told Miranda, leaving her daughter alone at the table, where she'd been colouring as Brooke sorted through some paperwork.

She was shocked to find Peyton on the other side of the door, looking like she'd been through hell and back since the ex-best friends had last spoken. In sweats and dark purple t-shirt, Peyton looked incredibly vulnerable. She tugged at the hem of her shirt as though she felt exposed, her eyes were shifty and darting, and there was a big bandage wrapped around one of her hands. Still, at the sight of Brooke, she seemed to fall into a more comfortable state. "Hey, B," she said quietly.

"Peyton," she blurted, and the next words left her lips before she could stop them. "You looking for Luke?"

Peyton's eyes glazed over again momentarily before she shook it off with the back-and-forth movements of her head, also answering Brooke's question. "No. Why would I be?"

Brooke shrugged, uncertain why that had been the first thought to pop into her mind. She looked at her old friend, unsure of what to make of how jumpy and restless Peyton appeared. She assessed Peyton's face, afraid of that gleam in her eyes and the colour in her cheeks that she can remember seeing before, that she can remember deeming Peyton's _Lucas-stealing face_. She shook off that thought with a shake of her own brown locks, just as Peyton had. "Why _are _you here?" she demanded.

"I didn't really sleep last night," Peyton confessed, still fidgeting, ringing her hands. "And I was just thinking…I don't know, about life and love and…everything. About how much you used to mean to be. About how much you still do, and about all the other things that you trump for me. I don't want us to give up like this. I know I screwed up, Brooke, but I want us to work through it. You said we could be better, and I really do believe you."

Brooke melted a little. Heartfelt confessions from her old best friend were something she didn't have much power to deny. "Oh, Peyton…" she said sadly. "I want to be better, too, it's just…"

"It's Luke, right? Brooke, I don't want to half to be saying this, but if you need me to…"

She frowned at the blonde's words, unsure of what she meant. "Okay. Say it," she finally replied after a long pause.

Peyton drew in a deep breath. "I am not after Luke," she stated simply. "I came here today for you because _you_ are what matter to me." She shrugged. "Hoes over Bro's, B. Davis. I know I fucked it up before and I regret it. I regret it all, and I know we can't erase it, but I'm here, and I'm asking you for another chance."

"I gave you another chance once," Brooke said matter-of-factly. "You fucked that one up, too."

Peyton nodded, acknowledging this. "Third time's the charm?" she suggested weakly.

Brooke sighed, caving. "You're lucky I love you so much, you bitch," she said affectionately, opening her arms for a hug. She was happy when she felt the force with which Peyton returned the embrace. "So what do you think?" she asked into Peyton's hair. "Do we need to have another Hoes over Bro's reunion?"

"Sounds perfect," Peyton whispered.

Brooke released her, giving her one last squeeze. "Alright. We'll start simple and slow…how about movie night at that hip little apartment of yours? I'll make Lucas watch our girl."

"Your girl," Peyton repeated. "I saw her, the other day. She's gorgeous. Looks just like you did."

"She does, doesn't she?" Brooke grinned. "So what do you say, P. Sawyer? You, me, and…Leonardo DiCaprio?" she asked, quirking her eyebrows.

"Ryan Gosling," Peyton countered.

Brooke licked her lips. "Even better," she said, and they dissolved into giggles.

"Hey."

She glanced up and saw Lucas walking toward them over Peyton's shoulder, Jenny at his side. "Hey, you," she replied before directing her smile at Jenny and greeting her with, "Hey, honey."

"Hi," Jenny replied with a small, awkward wave.

"I was just walking Jen back to Nathan and Haley's…but look who we found," Lucas commented, gesturing to Peyton.

She looked at Brooke's husband for only the briefest of seconds before tearing her eyes away. "Hello, Luke," she said, already directing her attention to her daughter. "Hey there," she said to Jenny.

"I didn't mean it," the fourteen-year-old hurried to say, blushing.

"I know," Peyton smiled. "But this is the last time, you crazy girl," she added, opening an arm to her daughter. "I thought we agreed not to get into anymore drama."

"We did. Yeah. I…"

"I know," Peyton soothed, preventing Lucas or Brooke from hearing any details of whatever had gone down between the Sawyer-Jagielski girls.

"Everything okay?" Lucas asked in confusion, losing his voice halfway through the question and having to clear his throat. Brooke gave him a suspicious look - she was concerned if it was sickness affecting his voice, and she would be concerned if it was something emotional. It was a lose-lose situation from her perspective.

"Fine," Peyton snapped out. "Thanks for walking Jenny back. I'll see you later, B," she added, shooting Brooke an earnest smile before rushing off, her arm still wrapped around Jenny.

"What were you two talking about?" Lucas asked, stepping into the house. He definitely had been exercising – he was a sweaty mess. The lack of lying did something to reassure her.

"Girl stuff," Brooke replied, brushing it aside. "Nice eye sex," she added sarcastically, stalking ahead of him into the house.

"Brooke, please, not this again. She barely looked at me."

"I know, I'm sorry, I…" She blew out her breath. She herself had been surprised by the words that flew from her mouth. "Everything's fine. I didn't mean anything by that."

The tension between Lucas and Peyton was palpable, but Brooke could almost understand that. Time and distance did that to people. It wasn't as though she and Peyton had suddenly slipped back into their old camaraderie; it was still hard, still strained, and that was diminished only by the moment in which they managed to say the right things. The intensity of their eye contact didn't even irk Brooke that much – both Lucas and Peyton had really deep eyes that they somehow managed to speak through, so it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary.

No, this time, it wasn't her husband's actions that were bothering her. Rather, it was the way Peyton's voice had shaken as she forced the words out: _I am not after Luke_.

**A/N**: Brooke may not like L/P eye sex, but I know the rest of you do. Probably almost as much as I love reviews. ;)


	23. Andante

A/N: So this is not my favourite chapter ever in terms of the present-day stuff…things are dragging along a bit right now and

**A/N:** So this is not my favourite chapter ever in terms of the present-day stuff…things are dragging along a bit right now and I'd really like them to move more, but I felt that the flashbacks (in _italics_) were necessary, and I'm happy with those. Your response to this story has been amazing – over 550 reviews, _wow_. I'm honoured, seriously.

I realize that a lot of you are getting impatient with the way the Jenny- Peyton conflict and withholding of info seems to be unending; I feel that way, too, but I have the chapter in which they fully reconcile written already, and it doesn't fit in until further along in the story line. Sorry about that, but your investment in this story really has been awesome…so awesome that I'm toying with the idea of a sequel. I actually enjoy writing the sequel more because…well, because there's more L/P. ;) I know a lot of you are confused about how I'm going to get them together…but I have a plan. There's always been a plan. Read and review, please.

Andante: Italin, it means "walking", music set at a slow and steady, almost reflective, pace

Peyton and Jenny sat down on opposite sides of the table, having a hesitant staring contest over their cereal. Neither of them had actually eaten yet that day, despite Haley's best efforts to get some food into both of them.

Jenny could feel her mother's contemplative gaze on her. She arched an eyebrow, waiting for Peyton to speak.

Peyton's smile was soft. "Talk to me," she said in a voice just above a whisper.

Jenny sighed heavily as she chewed her Cheerios. After she swallowed, she said, for what felt like the infinite time, "How about _you_ talk to _me_?"

Peyton was no longer eating. "You really want to do this." It was a question, a statement, and almost an agreement.

"I really do," Jenny agreed, setting her spoon down.

"Okay. Alright. I'll tell you everything."

Jenny's eyes widened. "_Everything_?"

"Okay, it's not some sort of scandal, Jen. And no, not _everything_. I don't have to share my entire history with you. But I'll tell you the things…that you need to know. I'll try to answer your questions."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Okay." There was a pause. "Go," Jenny added, in case Peyton was waiting for some kind of instruction.

Her mother shook her head, exasperated. "You are such a brat, you know that?"

Jenny shrugged, feigning modesty. "I try. Mom…come on."

"Alright, babe, I guess it all started when I was dating Nathan, and then Lucas joined the basketball team…"

* * *

_Peyton stood on the porch, ringing her hands. She wondered if he wasn't at home – at work or with Jenny or somewhere else. She probably should have called first. She probably should have asked if this was okay, just rushing back here after the emotion-packed night they'd shared, sex and crying and talking and yelling._

_To her relief, the door swung open, revealing the surprised face of the boy she'd proposed to forty-eight hours ago. "Peyton," he said. _

_Her reply was nothing more than, "Hi." She decided to give him a moment to assess it all, to let his eyes wander to her beloved car, packed full of her most precious belongings…and her pillow. That was the last thing she'd taken out of her room. She'd wandered down the walkway leading away from her house clutching the pillow like a kid going away to summer camp. But this wasn't a one-month deal, in which she'd go away, miss home, learn to love her new experience, and head back to the safety and familiarity of what she'd always known. This was permanent._

_This was going to her place in the world for the rest of her life. Already, it felt like safety and home, where Jake loved her and Jenny cooed sweetly at her and there was no Brooke and no Lucas and no stupid love triangle drama. This was Peyton and the boy she was going to love from hereon in, nothing more. _

_"You're back," he finally said after taking in the sight of all her things, before he began drinking in her personal appearance. Her makeup was a little smudged from the crying she'd done on the drive, the one wave of sadness for the town she'd grown up in and the people she'd loved, but other than that she looked pretty damn good. She was still wearing her bridesmaids dress, and her hair was still twisted upward prettily, with only a few stray hairs falling down into her face. _

_"Jake, I love you," she blurted out, needing to say it all, to get it out there in the open, to know if he would want this too. "I really do. I told Lucas I loved him, yeah, but it was only because he saved my life – it's so much different than the way I love you, and I love you so much. I've missed you so much. For these past hours that I've been away from you, I've missed you so much. Jenny, and the art school, and all the ghosts, the history, and your kickass crib," she added playfully, nodding to his rundown home, "those are all great reasons to marry you, but really I asked you because I love you. You're my home. This is where I'm supposed to be, I know it, I do."_

_"You mean that." It was both a statement and a question. _

_"Every word," she whispered back. "Except for the stuff about your house…we're gonna have to move once we tie the knot," she joked before her lips slipped into a shy smile. "If you'll have me."_

_He shook his head, fighting a smile. "Peyton…of course I will. I love you so much. But I want you to have come back here on your own. For you and what is right for us, not just because you're scared or because you want what you can't have. Not just because you feel safer here, safer with me. Because you've looked into your heart and you found me."_

_She nodded, grinning shyly. She knew that. She didn't say a word, letting him fill in the blanks for himself. She wasn't going to contradict him, so he could only take it to mean one thing._

_"Peyton…" he breathed, his voice possessing the same sexy huskiness it had on the first night that they'd ever kissed as a couple, standing in her room while Jenny cried, and without even realizing that she'd flung herself into his arms, she was there, and they were kissing, and he was lifting her up off the ground. _

_"Let's get married right now," he muttered against her lips, and she couldn't stop smiling. _

_"Okay," she said gamely, her breathing shallow with anticipation. "Let's go, right now. Jenny should be there, can we pick her up?"_

_"I think I can swing that," he agreed, the same unstoppable smile lighting up his face. _

_"God, I love you," she said breathily, pressing her lips to his again and cupping his face. He backed her into his bedroom just like he had two nights before, and they both laughed breathlessly as they fell to the bed._

_Her eyes fluttered shut as Jake pressed kisses right above the neckline of her dress, and his hand sought out the zipper at her back. "Maybe the wedding can wait," he muttered._

_Peyton giggled, tugging at his shirt. "Maybe just an hour."_

* * *

In the afternoon, Haley walked her twins over to the home of the other Scots, and used her emergency-situations-only key to let all three of them in. She wasn't going to wait to be invited in, not today. Normally she walked in without preamble, but when she'd discovered that the door was locked, she didn't hesitate for a moment to pull out her key. She didn't have the patience for it. "Lucas Eugene Scott!" she yelled, in a tone of voice that made her little boys cringe.

"Uh-oh," Lucas said, entering the front hall and grinning at his nephews. "She's using the sca-a-a-ry voice," he commented menacingly, diving at them with hands ready to tickle.

Have gave her a serious looks over their heads, which he caught, and he instantly straightened up. "Hey, you guys, Mira's in the dining room with board games, cookies, and apple juice. You interested?"

They nodded eagerly.

"Okay, off you go," Lucas laughed.

"Not too many cookies, you two!" Haley called as they hurried off.

Lucas studied her. "What's going on, Haley Bob?"

Haley threw down her purse and sweater onto a nearby chair. "Okay, firstly: I can pull out your middle name whenever I want because it is in your best interest; only my own mother gets to call me Haley Bob. And secondly, Lucas, I know."

"You know…"

"I _know_," she said pointedly, staring him down.

"Hales, you've gotta give me more than that."

"You and Peyton," she told him bluntly. "Yesterday. Eight years ago."

Lucas' jaw dropped. "O-oh," he stuttered.

"Yeah. _Oh_." She paused. "Should we sit?"

"Why not?" he asked quietly, allowing her to enter into the living room before he did.

Haley paced in and sat down, looking up at her best friend with an appeal in her eyes. He seemed afraid to sit down with her. "Lucas, what are you _doing_?" she breathed worriedly.

He sighed and flopped down on the couch next to her. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Luke. I am _not_ the person who deserves any apologies from you here."

"I know," he groaned.

"You need to make some decisions. You really do," she told him seriously.

He gaped at her. "I am _married_ to Brooke."

Haley rolled her eyes. "I'm aware of that, thank you. And Lucas, I…I want that to be your dream, you perfect world, you happily ever after." She sighed, licking her lips nervously. "But is it?"

"You cannot possibly be condoning what I'm doing. What I've done. Any of it," he said disbelievingly. "Haley, you're like the moral compass of…everything, and this isn't exactly morally correct."

"I'm not condoning anything," Haley quickly replied. "I'm really not. Lucas, I just wish everybody could…be happy. Are you happy?"

"I…I don't…I…I don't know," he finally confessed softly.

"I _want_ you to be happy," she said adamantly, leaving no room for contradiction. "Luke, I don't agree with what's going on with you and Peyton now, and I definitely don't think it was fair of you to show up in L.A. and bombard her with what could have been, but I can't…I can't be mad at you, Lucas. You're my best friends, and…the heart wants what it wants. My heart wants for yours to be happy. What's it going to take for that to happen?"

He shook his head, looking bewildered. "I love Brooke."

"I know you do," she said sympathetically. "And if we'd been having the conversation yesterday, I'd tell you that you have a wife and a daughter, end of story. But…"

"But?" he prompted eagerly.

"But Peyton is still in love with you," Haley sighed. "She'd never admit it, but she is, even after all these years, and if you're still in love with her, too…then it's truly meant to be."

The gleam of hope in his blue eyes was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. "But what about Brooke?" he asked quietly, shamefully.

Haley smiled gently. She'd spent enough time being judgmental and accusatory. From now on, she was going to be helpful. That was, after all, what she tended to excel at. "If it's still Lucas and Peyton, tragic and epic love…then it will always be. If you are…I don't know, if you're _destined_, or…whatever, then…there's some rich, handsome hunk out there meant for Brooke."

"It's not…as simple as that."

"I know," she agreed comfortingly, and said no more for now. Sometimes helping meant silence.

* * *

_"Nathan? Honey, you ready to go?" Haley called hesitantly into the perfect silence of the room at the back of the gothic cathedral. She didn't want to ruin the peaceful atmosphere. _

_Her husband had been staring out the window, into the garden behind the church. He spun around and his eyes widened. "Hales…you look…wow."_

_She smiled, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, stepping into a hug before she tilted her chin up for a kiss. "Yeah, well, you get the good dresses when the bride's a designer."_

_Nathan smirked appreciatively, but the smile quickly dropped from his lips. _

_"Hey," Haley said softly, forgetting that they were necessary parts of the wedding, and that they were already running late. "What's wrong? Talk to me."_

_"Nothing," he shrugged, smiling down at her again. "Definitely nothing I should be thinking about when my wife looks as hot as she does right now."_

_She grinned, giving him his reward in the form of a kiss before leaning away and prodding, "Nathan, come on. Just tell me."_

_"I was…thinking about Peyton. Just wondering how she is. It's been so long. I miss her."_

_"Yeah…Brooke tried so hard to get her to come, but she wants to let it go" Haley said softly before remarking, "If she was here, she'd be the one in this dress that you seem to love so much."_

_Nathan chuckled. "I love the woman in the dress, too," he assured her. "The thing is, Haley, that I always thought Peyton would be wearing a completely different dress on this day."_

_She frowned. "What do you mean?"_

_"I always thought that…on the day I was Luke's best man…I'd be watching Peyton walk down that aisle."_

_"Don't say that," Haley pleaded instantly, feeling that it was unfair to the bubbly brunette she'd just left who was practically hyperventilating with excitement. _

_"I don't mean it in a bad way; you know I love Brooke, and I think that the two of them are really happy. This just isn't how I pictured it, I guess."_

_"Well," she said softly, "Did you ever picture yourself married and with a kid by the day you graduated high school?"_

_He grinned abashedly. "No, I didn't."_

_"And that turned out pretty good, didn't I?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. _

_"Yeah…it definitely did."_

_She smiled. She couldn't feel bad on this day; there was just too much happiness in the air, too much love. "And this will too," she replied, full of optimistic confidence, and the subject she'd wanted to bring up with her husband fell out of her mouth unbidden, "Hey, Nathan? Do you want to have another baby?"_

_His eyes registered shock at her abrupt question, but it faded quickly as he pulled her closer. "With you looking like that, how can I say no?"_

_She blushed, feeling the heat in her cheeks. "Seriously," she whispered._

_He nodded, his blue eyes trained on hers in that way that made her knees weak. "Seriously."_

* * *

"…And that was it. That was the end of Lucas and I."

Jenny frowned. "It's weird…it's all so complicated but really simple…and then again, really not."

Peyton laughed lightly. "Only in Tree Hill."

"So you and Lucas were hooking up behind Brooke's back?"

"Yes. Did I mention that I set bad examples?" she added, shooting Jenny a look.

"Point taken. And then…you broke up with him. You fell for Dad a little bit. Dad and I left, you fell apart, Lucas called Dad to come help you, and he moved back here. Then he had to run again…and then you came to Savannah, to us. That's it?"

Peyton nodded. "Pretty good summary, yeah." She grimaced. "What are you thinking?"

"I think some people made mistakes," Jenny shrugged. "I don't see why everyone makes such a big deal out of all of this."

Peyton smiled sadly. She had kept her promise – told Jenny when she thought she needed to know. But what she thought her daughter needed to know wasn't even the half of it, and that was why her daughter couldn't understand all the drama, still.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?" she asked quietly, jolting back to the world of her apartment, her kitchen, her daughter.

"What happened with Lucas last night?" Jenny asked hesitantly.

Peyton reached across the table to squeeze Jenny's hand. "Nothing, honey. Nothing at all."

* * *

_"Awesome," Peyton said appreciatively, gazing down at the artwork completed by one of the students whom she was student-teaching for. As much as she loved her art, music was still her biggest dream – but they needed money before she could pursue anything else. The same went for Jake. It was their fantasy, their ideal life, a world in which Peyton owned a label that signed Jake Jagielski as its first artist. They discussed moving out to Los Angeles countless times, but they had nowhere near the funds they would require were they just to up and leave, not if they wanted to maintain their standard of living and be successful. Their life in Savannah wasn't bad at all – it was pretty near perfect for a second-choice of lifestyle. Both of them taught at the local high school, Peyton art and photography classes, Jake Shakespeare and modern literature. They had Jenny, who had countless friends at her elementary school and who was already playing basketball like she couldn't get enough of it. They had two months of vacation each year. _

_They had one another. _

_Peyton's cell phone rang, and she rummaged through her purse to grab it. "You've made greats progress, Kelsey," she told her student with a grin. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" With one last wave to the fifteen-year-old, she flipped open her phone and answered, "Hi, you've reached Peyton."_

_"Mrs. Jagielski?" an unfamiliar voice asked. _

_"Sawyer," she corrected automatically, still strangely attached to her maiden name. _

_"I'm sorry…are you not married to Mr. Jacob Jagielski?"_

_Never in her entire time of knowing him had Peyton heard anyone call Jake by his full first name, not even his own parents. "I am, yes, I just kept my maiden name; we were really young when we…" she trailed off, realizing that she'd gone off onto a tangent. "What can I do for you?" she asked, laughing lightly. _

_"Ms. Sawyer, you need to come down to Memorial Hospital –"_

_She didn't wait to hear any more. She couldn't. The phone fell from her fingertips and before she knew it she was outside and in a cab, holding her breath on the ten-minute drive there, increased by the rush hour traffic. A pedestrian walked out into the street at a crosswalk and she wanted to cry. She didn't have time for this; if only Jake hadn't taken the car that morning._

_If only._

_She bolted through the doors of the emergency room and hurried toward the desk, starting to speak before she came to a halt: "My name is Peyton Sawyer, my husband's Jake Jagielski, I got a call, what hap –"_

_"Mommy!" Jenny's little voice interrupted her. She was sitting by the desk on a hard hospital chair, a nurse next to her. Her chin had a large bandage on it. _

_"Oh, baby!" Peyton cried, rushing over to her and kneeling down to give her a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, my little girl, what happened?" she asked, gently cupping Jenny's injured chin. _

_"Ms. Sawyer?" the nurse asked. "Hi. There's been a car accident," she said gently, two words which always made Peyton's heart skip an unpleasant beat. "Jenny's chin hit the side of the car. It was a nasty bump, but we've stitched her up and she's going to be fine. The doctor's prescribed a light painkiller for her."_

_"Oh, Jenny…does it hurt?"_

_"Yeah," Jenny admitted. "But they said I was brave and they gave me a popsicle," she added hurriedly, sticking out her purple tongue. _

_Peyton smiled in relief at the sheer normalcy of the five-year-old's behaviour. "You're fine," she sighed. "Thank God." She wrapped Jenny into another warm hug, pulling back and looking Jenny right in the eyes. "Where's your daddy?" At Jenny's shrug, she realized that she was asking the wrong person, and straightened up to speak to the nurse. "Is my husband okay?"_

_The nurse's kind eyes clouded over. "Why don't we go to a quieter room and talk," she suggested gently. _

_Peyton picked up on her tone immediately and was seized with panic. She felt as though someone was holding an open fist around her heart, waiting, threatening to clench it closed and make her suffer. "Or we could just talk right here," she responded. She wasn't going to agonize over the countless horrible possibilities while the nurse found them somewhere quieter to talk. _

_Gently, the older woman forced her to sit down, pulling her into a chair. Peyton's mind went into overdrive. Did Jake lose a limb? Did he have amnesia? Could he no longer speak, or walk, or play his guitar? Was he going to be sick for the rest of his life?_

_For some reason, she never considered death._

_"Ms. Sawyer…your husband suffered a fatal blow to his head. Machines are the only thing keeping him alive right now. He's brain dead. I'm so sorry."_

_The fist closed over her heart, squeezing with all its might. She started to shake, her hands grasping for something to hold on to but coming up with nothing. _

_"Ms. Sawyer? I'm so sorry…Peyton?" the nurse asked kindly._

_"Mommy?" Jenny asked fearfully, but Peyton couldn't even look at her._

_"What now?" she murmured, feeling as though the voice wasn't even her own. "It…it's over? He's over? There's no…no chance, no percentage, no…miracle?"_

_"I'm so sorry," the nurse repeated, genuine sympathy in her eyes. "We'll let you say goodbye…let you pull the plug when you're ready."_

_"Mommy?" Jenny demanded again. _

_Peyton looked down in to her daughter's gorgeously innocent cerulean eyes. "Can someone stay with her?" she asked the nurse. _

_"I will," she replied, nodding. "Dr. McGrath will take you to your husband," she added, nodding to the doctor who stood nearby. _

_"Mommy!" Jenny got up to go with her. Peyton placed a comforting hand on her daughter's head, running her fingers lightly through her blonde hair, but she couldn't think of a single word to say to Jenny at that moment. _

_"You stay with me, sweetie, okay?" the nurse coaxed. "Mommy will be back soon."_

_"I wanna go with you!" Jenny cried, appealing solely to Peyton, but her mother shook her head. There was no way in hell she was taking her five-year-old with her. She wanted Jenny to remember Jake like the excellent man and father he was. Vibrant and loving and intelligent and musical and playful. _

_She did not want Jenny Jagielski to remember her father as the shell of a man Peyton encountered when she walked into that room. _

_"Take your time," had been the instruction she was left with, and she found it cruel. She had no more time. Her time with Jake was over. _

_She stared at him sadly for a while, memorizing the body she'd come to know so well. He looked broken…and empty. _

_After a while, she cleared her throat to speak, and simply said, "I love you," before a terrible realization struck her. It didn't matter what she said – Jake was already gone from the world. "I-I know you can't hear me, and you're gone from me, but Jake…I love you. You know that, right? You had to have known that."_

_When she couldn't take it anymore, she took his hand in hers and pressed her lips to her fingers. She whispered, "Bye, babe," and she yanked the plug from the outlet, rushing out the room before the machines keeping her husband alive could fully shut down. _

_Outside, the same kind nurse and a grief counselor were patiently waiting for her, but Jenny got there first, running to her and flinging her arms around Peyton's legs, whimpering about her chin and her father and other incomprehensible things. _

_Peyton scooped her up and did not set her down once. She ignored the grief counselor. She did only what needed to be done, paperwork and formalities and insurance forms and lawyers and wills, and then she bolted from the hospital as fast as her feet would carry her. _

_The car was in bad shape, somewhere in police or city custody, so she had to take yet another taxi. She made the driver stop so that she could pick up coffee on her way home, a mocha-and-foam thing, the same exact drink she'd imbibed on that weekend in high school when her father had told her to follow her heart and she'd gone to Jake. _

_She took Jenny inside their home, which suddenly felt as though it were lacking so many things. She gave Jenny a painkiller and sat both of them down on the couch, cradling her daughter in her arms as she carefully answered Jenny's infinite list of questions. It didn't really sink in for the little girl until she demanded, "When is Daddy going to come home?" and Peyton gently answered, "He's not, honey." Jenny fell asleep in Peyton's arms, knocked out by her tears and her medication. _

_Peyton felt like she should call someone, but she didn't know who. She couldn't call up her friends and conversationally inform them that her husband was gone. Jake's parents had chosen that week to go on vacation in Mexico. Her mind flashed briefly to Brooke, who'd crawled into bed with her when her mother had died. To Lucas, her constant saviour. To Haley, the most comforting and maternal person she knew. To Nathan, who was familiar and sweet and always on her side. To Karen, her surrogate mother, who'd looked out for her whether or not Peyton was currently engaged in a relationship with her son. For the first time in years, Peyton missed them all so badly that she physically ached for them. It had been too long. It was too late for her to call them for help. _

_She called her dad, but he was out in the middle of some ocean. She left him a brief message that consisted of no more than, "Hi, I miss you."_

_Exhausted and still sort of in shock, she retreated to the master bedroom, crawling into the comforting warmth of their – her – bed with her caffeinated drink. She could still remember what it tasted like, warm and sweet on her tongue. _

_But she'd left it for too long. It was cold and bitter going down her throat, and that was what made her lose it. She huddled into a ball in the sheets that still smelled like Jake and cried. _

_The phone woke her up the next morning, ringing incessantly. It had made Jenny stir, too, and the five-year-old climbed into bed with Peyton as she picked it up, irritably demanding, "What?"_

_"Once a morning person, always a morning person," her father joked sarcastically. "Hey, honey. I just got into Tree Hill, I was hoping you might come up and visit me, bring your boy and that sweet little girl."_

_Peyton stayed quiet for a long moment, long enough for her father to ask, "Peyton? Honey?"_

_"Jake died," she whispered into the phone, and her father's gasp was loud in her ear. _

_Six and a half hours later, she and Jenny were sitting on the couch, watching some stupid cartoon that neither of them could laugh at, eating toaster waffles with gross amounts of syrup for lunch, when there was a knock on the door. The phone had been ringing off the hook – funeral home, lawyer, car insurance people, the principal of the school, who sadly had told Peyton that he was worried about her, about how bluntly she'd informed him that Jake wouldn't be returning that day, he'd died – and she was sick and tired of people._

_Peyton stumbled up to get it, wearing the pink pyjama pants with dancing elephants on them that Jake had gotten her as a joke of a Christmas gift – he'd given her lingerie later, when they were alone, in addition to a record she'd been searching for for years and that he'd loved her enough to go to all the work to find – and Jake's favourite sweater. She flung open the door with a scowl on her face and her eyes rimmed red, only to set eyes on the troubled orbs of her father, who looked incredibly concerned. _

_"Hey, baby girl," he said gently, dropping his bag and opening his arms. _

_"Daddy," she said, diving into his embrace, and she let him handle it from there. Lawyers and funeral home managers and those people who sold coffins…babysitters for Jenny and calls to her school and getting Peyton a leave of absence…bankers and friends and Jake's distraught parents. Peyton let Larry handle it all. He hovered around her worriedly, gently reminding her that he'd been where she was, but she couldn't deal with any of it. All the while – from the lawyer's office to the school's office to the banker's office to the cemetery, Peyton kept glancing up at the ceiling, up at the sky. _

_She would look toward heaven, and her own words would play over in her head. _

_I love you. You know that, right? You had to have known that._

_**

* * *

Jenny slowly pulled her hand back, hurt reflected deeply in her eyes. "You're lying."**_

She struggled to maintain her composure, wondering if maybe one day she'd die of dehydration from crying too much. At least then it would all be _over_, once and for all. "I'm sorry, Jenny," she whispered brokenly. "But this time it's not for you, okay? Please understand that."

"Then what…why…?" her puzzled fourteen-year-old demanded.

"If I keep telling myself the same thing over and over…" She lifted her eyebrows, trying to joke around. "Then maybe I'll start to believe it sometime. Things with Lucas didn't end the day we broke up or the day I left Tree Hill, and I'm not ready to tell you why or what or how. I'm not ready to say it out loud; I'm not ready to see the look in your eyes when I do."

Jenny furrowed her brow, looking deeply worried. "But what are you gonna do?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know, babe," Peyton sighed, sick and tired of her own self. "I never have."

**A/N: **Thoughts? Comments?


	24. A poco a poco

**A/N:** Warning: really, really long – but really important – author's note.

Okay. So. I'm getting impatient and annoyed with myself for several reasons. The first is that I have a lot of stuff written up that I just want to post, but I need to put it in context, and everything in this story seems to be taking too _long_ right now. So I'm going to ease up on the Naley scenes a bit, and I'm going to make a few things happen in this chapter that I wasn't planning on putting out there for a little while longer…I need some L/P to write, or I'm going to lose interest in my own story. This story is fading from what I originally wanted it to be and going in a circle…I need to get back on track with it.

The second is that I have another story which has been super-neglected, and I never wanted to be one of those authors…so I'm going to try to work on that.

And lastly, lately, when I'm writing, there's a little voice in the back of my head nagging me to start filling out scholarship applications and completing my final assessments and studying for my exams. So this chapter has a lot of stuff in it, and it's very long. I'm going to post it and then I'm going to take a break. You guys have been _amazing_ (over 600 reviews and tons of feedback!) and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. When I get back to posting chapters, I hope they'll be to your satisfaction, with lots of L/P :) Read on…

A poco a poco: literally "little by little", meant to signify a gradual increase in tempo and/or volume

Haley watched as Brooke bounced into the house, dropping a stack of papers and a couple garment bags onto a chair near the door. "Hey, husband," she chirped, bending down to give Lucas a quick kiss. "And sister-in-law," she added just as cheerfully, throwing her arms around Haley for a brief but warm hug.

"Hey, buddy," Haley replied softly. "You look happy."

"I _am_. I had the best day. Hey, you want to hang out tonight? Peyton and I are going to watch some movies or something. Nothing crazy, but it should be good."

Haley's eyebrows shot up and she smiled. "You and Peyton, huh? Thanks for the invite, Tigger…but you two should spend some time alone."

Brooke nodded. "I hope we can talk…and that she'll let me in, tell me some things. Her life is such a mystery to me now."

Haley winced, shooting a nervous look toward Lucas, who was sitting there looking guilty. "Brooke," she said, "take a walk with me, okay? I have something to tell you."

Lucas' eyes widened considerably as he panicked. "Haley?" he asked.

She gave him her best reassuring smile. He needed to be man enough to tell his wife about what was going on with Peyton; she certainly wasn't going to do it for him. "Nothing for you to worry about," she replied, sure that he'd get the message. It occurred to Haley then that Lucas didn't know this particular piece of information either…but she felt that Peyton should be the one to tell him when they finally worked through all their drama.

"I don't understand," Brooke said, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.

Haley stood up and placed a hand on her friend's arm. "It's okay, I promise. Just come with me. Lucas'll watch the kids."

Brooke huffed impatiently as Haley steered her out of the house, down the driveway, and onto the sidewalk. "Will you tell me now?" she demanded the instant they started moving away from the house.

"Peyton's not been doing well," Haley said cautiously. "You know that."

"Yeah, I do. Hales, be straight with me, please."

"Right, I'm sorry, it's just…she was kind of a mess last night, and I finally got her to talk to me."

Brooke looked shocked. "Like…important things?"

"Yes. Like…stuff about Jake."

"Oh my God!" Brooke cried, gasping. "What's the deal? You have to tell me everything."

Haley allowed herself a small smirk at what a gossipmonger Brooke could be before her lips slid back into a frown. "Jake died, Brooke."

All of the playful light in Brooke's eyes went out, replaced by a stunned sort of sadness. "Oh," she whispered, halting. "Oh my God. What…_when_?"

"About eight years ago," Haley told her softly.

"Oh, God," Brooke said again. "Peyton must have…" She looked at Haley with tragic eyes.

"I know," Haley said soothingly.

Brooke's face crumpled as tears escaped her eyes, her usual dimples replaced by the soft creases of sadness. Haley gently took her elbow and pulled her down until they were both sitting on the curb, their feet in the road of the quiet street.

"She should've called me," Brooke muttered mournfully. "I would have been there for her, no matter what happened between us before." Then her eyes widened and she bit down on her lip, looking over at Haley with eyes heavy with guilt. "I…"

"She told me that, too," Haley reported quietly.

"I was a bitch, huh?" Brooke choked out.

"Oh, honey, you weren't. You both…you were both struggling with how you felt, and you both made mistakes."

"But…I messed our friendship up so bad that she couldn't even call me when her husband or…Did they ever get married?"

"Yeah. She told me that they got married the same day that she went back to Savannah."

Brooke buried her face in her hands. "I was supposed to _be_ at her wedding. She was supposed to be at mine! Oh, God, I-I…I went to L.A. with an invitation to _my_ wedding only a short time after _her_ husband died. She told me that she stayed away because of Luke, and the time, and…I thought that was it, not because she'd just lost Jake," she sniffled.

"She told you that?" Haley asked, surprised. "That she stayed away because of Luke?"

"The last conversation we had was a fight, and it was about Lucas. It would have been awkward, sure, but I wanted her there. Just like I wanted to be there for her. It's not fair, Haley, all the crap that keeps happening to her. Sometimes it would piss me off because she always needed rescuing, she was always the martyr, but in the end she deserved that rescuing, she was worth it, and I loved her, so I was always there for her. I thought she needed me. I should have _been_ there, when Jake…"

Haley pulled her into a one-armed hug. "We all should have been there, Brooke. Don't blame yourself or anyone else."

"It must have been so _hard_," Brooke gasped. "Can you imagine losing Nathan?"

Haley let out a shaky breath. "I've come close on a couple occasions…and that alone has been devastating. I can't imagine it, no. It seems too hard and too harsh and just too much."

"Yeah…I don't know what I'd ever do without Lucas in my life."

Haley's skin went white, but Brooke was too busy worrying about Peyton to notice. "Yeah," she whispered. "Brooke…God forbid it ever happen, but we would be okay, you know that, right? Peyton's fine now. She's got a life a lot of people dream of, and she's providing for Jenny, and she really loves that girl. It's got to be hell on earth…but she made it through, and so would we. So would you."

Brooke looked at her, eyes lost somewhere in the past. "That's like what Peyton said to me, the last thing I can really remember her saying before she told me she still loved Lucas and everything went downhill so fast. I was telling her about how I'd managed without Luke while he was away, healing after Keith's death and quitting b-ball…and she told me I was the best company for myself. That I could take care of myself and do great things and…She really meant it, I could tell, and I knew she was right." She frowned. "I don't know why, but when I'm with Luke…I forget that sometimes. I just become so dependent on him."

Haley nodded in understanding. "That's not all that bad," she said, keeping her statement and her tone neutral.

"Yeah, I…I love Lucas, and I love all that I've been able to do with Clothes over Bro's but…I always wanted to be more than that girl. But I guess it's who I've become."

"Then undo it," Haley told her gently. "Reclaim all your strength and your independence and whatever else you feel you've lost."

"That's just…never who I've been with Lucas, though. And if I change me…" She looked frightened all of a sudden. "If I change me, do I change our marriage?"

"I honestly don't know, buddy. Nathan and I have always tried to pursue our individual dreams while still managing to be a couple and a family. I think that's how it should be, so no one has regrets and everyone lives their fullest life."

Brooke looked at her worriedly. "But…what if that's not how Lucas and I work? We have our separate lives – my company, his writing, his coaching – and we have our life with each other and with Miranda but I…I find myself getting jealous over the stupidest things sometimes, or I try to arrange our trips to New York to spend time together, and I miss him all the time…when I…" She sighed. "Haley, I want to have another baby; you know how much I love being a mom, and I want Miranda to have a sibling, but…"

"But…what?"

"I was also hoping that when we have another child we'll all really _live_ together again, in sync and with one another. Lucas gets up, and by the time I'm out of bed he's already gone or busy with his writing; I get home and he's asleep. We just trade Miranda back and forth to make sure we each get quality time. I want my family back."

"Brooke," Haley sighed. "You know better than to have a baby any other reason than just…giving love, having a child."

"I know," she agreed. "That's exactly what I mean. When I believed in my own…in everything, on my own…I wasn't like this. I didn't think like this."

"Go back to that, Brooke. You told me about Lucas' proposal, and I remember, he told you that you were going to change the world someday and you didn't even know it yet. Find that girl he said those words to, and go out there and be her again."

"That girl wasn't Lucas' wife." Fresh tears spilled from Brooke's eyes, running over the others that had already dried on her cheeks. "And what if she can't be?"

Haley pulled her closer, letting Brooke rest her head against her shoulder. "Oh, Brooke. You're getting ahead of yourself."

Brooke leaned all her weight against Haley, giving in. "Am I?" she asked in a strangled voice.

"It doesn't matter, sweetie," Haley said comfortingly, into Brooke's brown hair, which smelled like one of her amazingly expensive shampoos. "_You_ are the _best_ company, remember?"

Peyton smiled when she opened the door to find Brooke standing there. "Brooke, hi, I –"

"Hey, my girl," Brooke cut her off with a gentle greeting, her eyes warm and sympathetic. She opened her arms and pulled Peyton into a secure hug.

"Hi," Peyton repeated, her eyes widening with her surprise at the sudden affection in Brooke's words and the strength of her embrace. Nevertheless, she hugged Brooke back, commenting, "Good to see you, too."

She was technically involved in some kind of messed up…thing…with Lucas, which was _technically_ a betrayal of Brooke, but no matter what, this was…her Brooke. Her very best friend. The girl who'd always stepped up to take care of her when there was no one else. And no matter what was going on…reinstating her friendship was Brooke was what she was determined to make top priority.

Brooke, who could see the apartment over Peyton's shoulder, remarked, "Whoa, P. Sawyer, this is…dark. I missed your Gwen Stefani badass vibes."

Peyton smiled as Brooke let her go and wandered into the apartment, observing the walls that were covered in all the artwork that had stemmed from Peyton's muse that day. "For the last time, B. Davis-Scott," she said, ignoring Brooke's surname as she shut the door and crossed her arms over her chest, "Gwen Stefani is _not_ badass."

The brunette's cheeky grin faded quickly. She sat down gingerly on the couch and patted the space next to her. "Come here and sit with me for a minute."

Puzzled, Peyton frowned, but joined her old friend on the couch. "Brooke…what's up?

Brooke inhaled deeply and grasped on of Peyton's hands, pulling it toward her and into her lap. "Peyton," she said softly.

Her frown deepened as she laughed nervously. "Hey, come on…tell me what's going on, Brooke."

"Honey…Haley told me."

Peyton tried to pull away, but Brooke had a firm hold of her hand. She was a bitch. A horrible friend. A repeat offender. She could feel intense heat in her cheeks. "Brooke," she breathed, not sure where to begin, if there were any possible excuses to make, and only then did it register that Brooke had called her _honey_. "Wait…Haley told you what?"

Brooke's eyes filled with tears. "About Jake," she whispered.

All of the blood drained from her face and she instantly broke eye contact. She was both relieved and upset. "O-oh."

"Oh, God, P., I am so…_so_ sorry. I can't even imagine…I feel so guilty –"

"Brooke, no –"

"Because I got so angry with you that you thought you couldn't come to me…I wish you'd called me, I wish I could have _been_ there for you."

"Nothing was your fault," Peyton assured her softly. "_Nothing_," she added, but she still couldn't meet Brooke's eyes.

"Peyton, babe…please let me in. At least let me be here for you now. Tell me anything. Talk to me. Cry on my shoulder, or get angry, or…"

"Brooke…" Peyton was touched by her sentiment, but she didn't want to get into it. "Thank you, but it was so long ago, and I'm fine." She pulled her hand out of Brooke's and stood up, reaching for her purse. "Let's just go get our movies."

"Peyton!" Brooke gaped at her, confused and a little hurt. She extended her hand, reaching out to Peyton. "P. Sawyer, are you sure you don't want to –"

"Brooke. Please. Let's just go."

Her friend nodded hesitantly, standing as well. "Okay. Peyton…I just want you to know that you can come to me with anything."

Peyton faked a smile, nodding.

If only that were true.

"_Please_, Peyton?" Brooke begged with her best puppy dog face.

"Nope," Peyton replied, brushing past her and moving on down the aisle created by the high shelves.

"But-but…" Brooke protested, trailing after her and continuing the clutch the movie in her hands.

"B., _no_. I'm not watching _A Walk to Remember_ with you."

"But it's _such_ a good movie," Brooke pouted, searching Peyton's eyes for any sign that she'd relent.

There was none to be found as Peyton turned away from her again, picking up _The Devil Wears Prada _and waving it. "Here, you like this movie, right? Pretty clothes, bitchy women…right up your alley!"

"Ha ha," Brooke said dryly, smacking Peyton's ass with her DVD before clutching it to her chest again. "_Please, _P. Sawyer?"

Peyton turned to face her fully, sighing. "_No_. You want me to watch _A Walk to Remember _with you because you know it's going to make me cry, and you want to talk about Jake."

Brooke blushed; she was busted.

"I understand and I appreciate it…but I prefer to keep all the Jake angst and grief in the past."

Brooke studied her worriedly, searching her face for any signs of hidden misery. "I know, honey…I just wish you would talk to me. I'm concerned about you. You have no idea how much I wish we could have had this conversation eight years ago."

"I know," Peyton whispered mournfully.

"P… are you…are you _over_ him? Have you let him go?"

Peyton considered her question for a moment before she finally answered, "I…yeah. Yeah, I have. I miss him and everyday is hard but…it's the past and I need to learn to leave some things…in the past." She dangled the movie between her fingertips, taking a deep breath, "Yes or no to this one?"

"Well, _well_," drawled a lazily mocking voice that could only belong to one person, just as Peyton and Brooke were unloading their armfuls of movies and snacks at Peyton's place. "Look who it is…the, oh…seventh and eighth best nights of my life."

Peyton shot Chris a scathing look, thinking of just how nice he had been to her_ hours_ ago. "Sometimes I honestly think you're bipolar…" she muttered.

Brooke's hand grazed her shoulder, a calming, comforting gesture. "Look who it is," she replied, steel tucked into her playfully witty tone. "The biggest mistake of both our lives."

Peyton winced. She had bigger regrets than her tryst with Chris Keller.

"Curly doesn't agree with you," Chris noted smugly, having observed the change in Peyton's facial expression.

"Chris…" she sighed, almost pleading but not quite there.

Brooke set down her stack of DVDs, straightening up and planting a hand on her hip. Having Brooke to step up to defend her, like she used to do, made Peyton feel safer than she had in quite a while.

"As _I _recall, Chris…you were all broken up 'cause Peyton's not in _love _with you," she snapped, making an obviously fake sympathetic face.

"Yeah…" Chris said, taking a couple steps toward them and faking a pout of his own. "But it's 'cause _she_ still loves _your_ hubby."

Both of them froze, staring at Chris with horrified expressions, while a satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.

"You are such an ass," Brooke all but growled at him.

Chris shook his head. "See, the thing is…I'm not. The only reason you're as angry as you are is because part of you…knows that I'm write."

"Shut the hell up and get the hell out," Peyton ordered him immediately, wearing a look that could most certainly kill.

He held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, it's cool, I get it. An overdose of Keller…happens to even my best girls."

Peyton saw Brooke's fists curl. But before it could come to any sort of physical blows, Chris winked and slipped away. Brooke's fingers unclenched and Peyton relaxed a bit.

"Still the world's biggest jerk, huh?" Brooke asked shakily.

"Yeah. Once a lying bastard, always a lying bastard, right?" Peyton said, trying to both joke and get a message across at the same time. "You know he's just saying stuff to bug you. And because he's still pissed at me."

"Yeah," Brooke whispered, sounding very far from convinced. "Of course." She held up two movies. "What do you want to watch?"

Peyton sighed heavily. "It's…always going to be there, isn't it? Lucas, between you and me."

Brooke met her eyes hesitantly, nodding sadly.

Peyton nodded back. "_Pretty in Pink_," she whispered, gesturing to one of the DVDs. "Always a classic."

Jenny sighed, standing up and walking away from the piano before flopping back into a chair.

Haley spun around on the piano stool, looking equally tired. "Okay, Jen. I know it's early and you're tired and this isn't exactly easy…but we need to get to work. I know you've had a lot of drama going on lately…but things are okay, right? With your mom and everything?"

Jenny made a face. "Have I been totally immature this summer?"

Haley shrugged. "Everybody reacts differently to things. It hasn't been easy, I know that. But when it comes down to it, Jenny, your mother is your mother, and she loves you. You know that."

"Yeah. I do."

Haley sighed, resting her hands on her knees. "Kiddo, I'm here for you, you know that. But we really have to get cracking with this whole music thing."

Jenny met her eyes hesitantly. She needed to talk about this with someone, and her mother, her usual confidante, was not an option. "Can I ask you something?"

"About trying this in a major key instead of a minor? Or speeding up that second bar?" Haley chirped hopefully, raising her eyebrows.

"No. Sorry."

Her mentor-slash-aunt sighed again. "It's okay. Talk to me."

"Do you think…" Jenny sighed. "Do you think my mom and Lucas were having an affair?" Haley's eyes widened considerably, and Jenny rushed on, "I mean, before. When she was with my dad. Or even after that, 'cause he's still been married to Brooke. It's just…she said she was scared to tell me everything that's happened with him because she was afraid of what I'd think of her."

Haley sighed yet _again_. "Oh, Jenny…honey, I'm trying to stay out of it. Lucas and Peyton…are a little self destructive, they always have been. They tend to pick _the _worst moments to have emotional epiphanies, Lucas can be so goddamn indecisive, and…I want everyone to be happy, and I'm just trying…not to pick teams. I wish that there was a way for Lucas, Brooke, and Peyton all to get what they want out of this…I'm just praying that someone will find it, for all of their sakes."

Jenny smirked. "None of that answered my question."

Haley chuckled. "She told you about junior year, huh?"

"Yeah. Sneaking around behind Brooke's back."

The older musician shook her head. "Peyton has always been so…_scared_ when it comes to Lucas, but then when she starts to lose him for good she finally finds it in herself to fight. Listen, honey, I don't want to…" She paused. "I will tell you this, okay? Your mom and Luke haven't been having an affair. They never were."

Jenny nodded, thankful, but she was still confused. "But then…how do they still have so much chemistry? It doesn't make sense to me."

Haley grinned. "I don't think it was ever supposed to make sense. Love's messy, honey. And Lucas and Peyton…are pretty much the epitome of messy."

Jenny wondered if that also meant that they were the epitome of love. "Is it worth it?" she asked quietly, meeting Haley's eyes hesitantly, nervous about what her response would be.

Her aunt-slash-mentor smiled gently. "I like to think so."

Peyton woke up the next morning, warmly tucked into her blankets and extremely comfortable. _This _was the way she liked to wake up in the summer. She rolled over, stretching out her arms and legs, and saw Brooke sprawled out beside her.

She couldn't help but smile. Brooke was lying on her back, mouth open, limbs all over the place. It brought Peyton back to when they were little kids, and sharing a bed with one another was a full-out battle. They'd wake up with bruises and red marks from having kicked and nudged and elbowed each other through the night. When she'd told Brooke to just crash in her bed the night before, a strange sort of current had passed between them, an acknowledgement of the reinstating of their friendship.

How had she gone from waking up in the morning with bruises on her shins…to where she was now?

Then she heard soft rapping on her door. She cast a _why me?_ look up at the ceiling before flinging the covers back and getting up. Brooke rolled over and sighed, but stayed dead to the world.

Peyton shuffled over to the door, running her fingers through her uncontrollable curls. She opened the door and sighed. "What're you doing here?" she hissed, her half-asleep state making her particularly cranky.

Lucas held up his hand as if to show that he was unarmed. "I would really just like to talk with you. I've been worried about you."

"Okay, so not a good idea right now," she whispered, "considering your _wife_ is asleep in my bedroom." She sighed, gesturing with her hand to shoo him out of her doorway. She stepped out of the apartment as well, shutting the door behind her and smoothing out her hair again. "Okay, Luke, I –"

"Later, alright?" he asked her, his hand somehow making its way to hers, gently capturing her fingers. "We just need to talk."

"Yeah," she murmured. "I know."

He tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear, but did nothing else. Their friendship had always had a physical aspect – Lucas was a naturally close-contact person, and Peyton was pretty touchy-feely too once she let someone past all her walls – so that gesture shouldn't have made her heart rate pick up, but it did. On an automatic impulse, she leaned forward to kiss him, pulling away after about thirty seconds. "Oh, God," she said, trying to get her brain to start working again as she covered her mouth with her hand.

Lucas looked understandably confused, but he just waited for her to say more.

"God, I'm sorry. I just…I'm still sleepy and a little out of it and you smell really good…" She blushed, wincing as she wished she could take back her babbling. "I'm sorry. We're not going to do this. We'll talk later. Come by…this afternoon. I-I'm…sorry," she blurted out, whirling around to make her escape back into her apartment.

"Peyton." His voice stopped her before she could turn the doorknob all the way. She glanced back at him nervously over her shoulder.

"I'm not," he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Luke, don't –"

"I know," he cut her off. "We'll talk about it all later."

"Okay," she agreed, her lips still tingling with the taste of him, and rushed into her apartment before he could say another word.

Oh _yeah_, she was over Jake.

Lucas poked his head through the door, rapping gently on the wood. Peyton was bent over the oven in a short emerald-coloured dress that gave Lucas a view of almost every inch of her long legs. He cleared his throat. "Coast clear?"

Peyton turned around, sweeping her bangs out of her face, and smiled reluctantly. "We're going to hell."

His eyes and mind stayed fixed on her hand, on an angry red gash. "What happened?" he asked, closing the space between them, and gently cradling her injured hand in both of his.

"Oh, I…I cut it cleaning up the pieces of that plate I threw at you." She shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay," he told her quietly. "Sorry for being such an indecisive asshole." She rewarded him with a small smirk as he ran a single finger across her scarred skin, asking, "Does it hurt?"

Peyton met his eyes with her sad, honest green orbs. "Yes," she whispered.

He nodded, understanding that they were now talking about much more than her cut. He brought her hand up to his mouth and gently ran his lips against the scratch. "Whatcha baking?" he asked, nodding toward the oven.

She carefully pulled her hand back. "Chocolate chip cookies," she informed him, placing one on a napkin and handing it over. "Jenny loves them…and I remember you telling me once that they're your favourite."

He couldn't help but grin at that, staring at her appreciatively. "God," he said, accepting the cookie. "I've missed you."

Her lips twisted into a sad smile. "You have no idea, Luke."

To avoid replying, he bit into his cookie. "Wow," he said after he swallowed. "So Peyton Sawyer finally learned how to cook."

"Shut up!" she cried, her words accompanied by that laugh that he loved so much. "Jenny's actually the better cook out of the two of us, but I don't tell most people that."

He smiled. He liked seeing this maternal side of her, kind and caring. "You've done so well with her, Peyt." He hesitated, but forged on, "I'm proud of you."

Peyton's eyes were glassy. "I haven't been doing well with her lately. Since we got here I've been the exact opposite of the mother I've tried to be for the last twelve years, and it's not fair to her. I'm not exactly worthy of any of your pride right about now."

"Of course you are," he soothed her. He'd always been able to feel Peyton's pain as though it were close to his own. "We all make mistakes sometimes."

"Well," she replied, her watery eyes connecting with his. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

Her words hit him with the same force as a punch to the stomach would have, but part of him knew he deserved it.

"God, Lucas, I'm sorry," she was saying a moment later, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I guess…I'm wrestling with everything I'm feeling and I'm taking it out on you." She looked at him imploringly. "You know, I'd feel better if you could bring that jerk side of yourself back so we could be idiots together…if you could get angry, too."

He reached out, cupping her neck with his hand and brushing his thumb gently down the curve of her jaw. It amazed him – and it boosted his ego a bit – that his touch could make her shiver after all these years. "I can't get angry with you," he said, and the look in her eyes made all the things Haley had said about fate play over again in his head. "In truth," he said, just as huskily and without moving his hand, "is that I haven't been the person I've been trying to be for the last twelve years since you got here, either."

A single tear slipped from her eye, snaking down her cheek. "Is that how it is with us? We screw each other up?"

"Maybe we make each other better," he contradicted her kindly. "And maybe that's just hard for us to deal with."

"I think I'm falling in love with you again," he said huskily.

"God, Luke…I never fell out of love with you," Peyton replied, her voice as raw as her heart. "But we can't do this."

"I feel like I've already lost too much with you."

She was starting to hate her ever-present tears, always ready and willing to fall. "Oh, Luke…"

"I think about it all the time. That day in L.A."

"Don't say that," she whispered.

"I wish you'd come with me."

"I do, too. I wanted to so bad…"

He shook his head, his expression incredulous. "Then why _didn't_ you? God, Peyt…think about what we could have had."

Her lips trembled. "I do, Lucas, I do, but I _had_ to be better than that. I wanted to go with you and love you but…I had Jenny to think about and…my husband had just died. I couldn't be that girl, Lucas," she choked out. "I wanted to go with you _so badly_, but I had to be worthy of all Jake and Jenny had given me."

Lucas' expression was hard to read. It was a complicated mixture of shame, regret, sympathy, realization…and love. Brooke, or Haley, clearly hadn't told him, and part of her was glad. Something told her that she needed to tell him about Jake's death, about the reason she declined his fantastic-yet-insane offer, herself. "Peyton," he said softly. He slipped his hands down, his palms s gently trailing along her upper arms, giving her goosebumps. "I'm so sorry."

She sniffled, carefully shrugging off his touch. "You didn't know."

"Maybe not…but I did know that I was being selfish when I came for you. My heart just ached for you and I stopped thinking. When I found out that my novel was going to be published it was this perfect, clear moment. And I knew that I loved you. That I probably always had. I needed to know if you felt the same way. But I…I had no idea how selfish I was really being. No wonder you looked so afraid."

She lifted her eyebrows as her heart warmed against her will. "You remember how I looked?"

Lucas nodded seriously. "And what were you wearing, and how your hair was."

"You do not."

"Hair straight, falling into your face and hiding your eyes. Dark pink dress with flutter sleeves and black flower on it. Brown leather belt. Black heels that made your legs look so…irresistible."

Peyton blushed and shook her head, amazed. "Blue crewneck sweater," she whispered after a brief silence. "And a black jacket. I wanted to grab you by the collar and kiss you and never let go." She tilted her head to the right as a thought occurred to her, and asked suspiciously, "How do you know what flutter sleeves are?"

The answer came to her before he could speak, even before a shadow fell across his face, and she wondered how she could have been so stupid. She answered for him, her voice quiet and packed with shame: "Brooke." She blinked back her tears furiously. "Lucas, we can't _be_. We can't betray her again. It was one thing when we were kids. It's different now."

"Is it?" he asked meaningfully.

She sighed, gazing into his eyes. "You and me?" she whispered. "No. It's not. But…everything else? Yeah. It is. And maybe…maybe it's too late."

"Don't say that. Look, Peyton…maybe we could make it work."

She took an instinctive step back. "Make _what_ work?"

"Well…us. I could talk to Brooke –"

"And tell her _what_?" she demanded shrilly. "There's nothing to tell! We haven't seen each other in years! We have more self control than this…we can't just run back to one another."

"But Peyton, I've always-"

"No! You picked her! You _married_ her!"

"I was alone!" he responded loudly. "I was so happy with my work, but I felt so empty, and I know that Brooke was feeling the same way. We just both wanted to _feel _more. Love, and support, and we both wanted to have a family."

Peyton felt her eyes widen. "_What_ are you saying?"

"That…"

"That you and Brooke were just waiting it out with one another?"

He shrugged ashamedly. "Maybe?"

"Don't you dare! Don't…" She didn't even know what to say to him anymore. "Don't _belittle _your marriage, a marriage that now includes a _child_ just to make yourself feel better for all your betrayal!"

"That's not what I'm doing," he protested.

"You are! You're making excuses and you are _horrible _for doing that. You have loved Brooke for over twelve years, or so you've always claimed. Don't start saying that was a lie _now_. Don't, just _don't_."

"I do love Brooke," Lucas insisted, "I just…she's not you," he said sadly. "I would like to love her as much as I know I can love you, I just…can't. It's always been different with you and me. Somehow it's always felt more real with us. More like it was meant to end up that way. And it still does."

"_We_ can't _be_," Peyton insisted again, trying to get the point through his thick skull. "There is no _us._ You are just like Nathan sometimes, you know? Dan Scott's sons," she added bitterly, trying not to think about how much that might hurt him. "It's me and Nathan in junior year, that's Brooke and you, and I'm Haley. You say we're just friends, but I mean something to you…or at least, I think I do, but when you're with Brooke you just deny it all and pretend that you really want to be with her and act like a _jerk_. And Nathan, lately, is being a sweetheart. Talk about switching places," she growled.

"Peyton…" he said sadly.

"No! If we were both single and life hadn't gotten in the way, then I would want this. I'd want to date you and fall in love again and have you get down on one knee and have a perfect wedding and have kids and all that idyllic crap, but that's not how it is anymore."

"You're telling me you don't love me anymore?" he asked, with something cocky about him that served to further piss her off.

"I do! You know I do! You're my…my always, and I just…but we _can't_."

"But if we could?" he countered stubbornly.

"Why won't you understand?" she gasped desperately, looking at him imploringly.

"I _do_ understand, and I'm sorry about all the pain this is causing everyone…but I think it can work. I _want_ it to work. I want to feel what's always been in the depths of my heart. I want all the things you want," he added, a small smile gracing his lips at the sense of déjà vu.

"Lucas, I'm at a loss, okay?" she cried, throwing her hands into the air. She remembered falling in love with him junior year and discovering that he'd picked another girl. "Brooke is my _friend_, but I…my heart wants to be with you, but I have Jenny to think about. I don't want to know what my fourteen-year-old is going to say when she finds out about this, about you and me eight years ago…I've given her enough sadness in a little over a week. She doesn't deserve it. And your daughter, your little girl, she doesn't deserve it, either. It's just so hard, you and me, and it always has been. You can't wait for me and I can't just _give _myself to you. When we were kids, I thought it was a sign that it wouldn't work, but…it just won't go away, and I…dammit, Luke, what were you _thinking_ then? What kind of people were we? What kind of people _are_ we?" She exhaled and inhaled shakily. "And what do we do _now_?"

Lucas was silent and stoic for a few moments, his eyes quickly calculating. Finally, he was defeated, and he breathed, "I don't know, Peyt. But I do know that I am so sorry that you lost him. And I'm sorry that somewhere along the line we lost each other."

She melted, tears slipping from her eyes, and he opened his arms to her. She dove into them, sobbing, and for a while he was just her Luke again. The boy who loved her enough to save her every time.

**A/N:** Review, please! I got some rants a couple chapters ago, and honestly, I appreciate it – I want to know what you really think, good, bad, you really miss Chris Keller, Jenny's a brat, whatever.


	25. Transposition

**A/N:** It's baaaaaack. :)

Sorry for the wait, I really am. I intended to get back to this much sooner, but my muse went to several other places, school got crazy, and now, to top it all off, I'm sick.

To those of you who've sent patient PMs and reviews asking for updates, I love you for your investment in this story and you are all kinds of wonderful for letting me take a break.

To everyone and anyone, if you don't mind, review just to let me know you're still out there and interested. And of course, I always welcome your feedback. You guys are terrific, you really are. I hope this chapter was worth the wait, and I'm going to try to update again soon. With Christmas coming up I might have a little bit more time on my hands.

Transposition: a change from the original key or tempo, slowing down or speeding up in order to suit the needs of singers and/or other instruments

Peyton sighed when Lucas showed up at her door in the late afternoon, but he caught the small, reluctant smile that touched her lips even though her cheeks reddened a little bit with the memory of her breakdown the previous evening. She sighed again as she set her laptop to the side. "This is turning into a pattern, Lucas."

"I know," he said, closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry."

He could see that she swallowed hard. "I'm glad that you've been here for me, for last night, for all of that but…it needs to end. God," she sighed yet again, leaning back in her chair. "Where does your wife think you are right now?"

He winced, but he was prepared for that very question. "Brooke's in New York meeting with her new accountant. Adam, or something."

Peyton just stared at him for a moment, and he took the opportunity to stare back. She was sitting on one of the chairs at her kitchen table, her feet propped up on another. Her jeans had holes in the knees and she was wearing a thin black tank top. She had a headband on, which was uncharacteristic, but it suited her, black material printed with little white music notes. There was something so casual about her outfit and something so peaceful about the atmosphere that Lucas suddenly wished that this was his daily reality.

"I hate to sound like a broken record, but this _has_ to stop. We're not kids anymore. Love triangles aren't supposed to last over a _decade_."

He took a few steps toward her, resisting the urge to touch her. "That's the thing, Peyton. Back then I was so infatuated with you…but now that we're older, it's…more than that."

She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. "Lucas. You are _married_. I've been home for what, a couple _weeks_?" She smiled sadly at him, tears shining in her eyes. "I know how you feel. I'll always…love you, even when I shouldn't, even when I _can't_. And I can't, not now. It's way too late for you and me."

Lucas nodded, swallowing painfully. He had come to fight for her, not with her. This was his one last attempt before he pulled back and respected the meaning of the choices they'd both made. It had been a whirlwind, with her, these past few weeks. But it had been years since they'd seen one another. He had a daughter to think about, as did she. If, in the end, she turned him down yet again...he would acknowledge the fact that she was making the right decision, a perfect sacrifice for them both.

But no matter what…nothing was going to be the same.

"I just…I wanted you to read this," he said quietly, handing her a file.

She arched an eyebrow as she accepted it, almost as though she was afraid to talk, scared of what she'd say.

"It's everything I've written since you came home," he explained quietly, feeling much younger as he tripped over his words.

"Oh…_Luke_. You can't expect this to change anything."

He shrugged. "It did for me. It changed everything for me."

Peyton gulped audibly as he walked away from her. "What's it about?" she asked.

Lucas turned and grinned briefly. "Just a boy…and a comet."

-x-

Jenny giggled as Jordan jogged around the edge of the river court, arms flung into the air.

"Pretty sure basketball players don't take victory laps," she called out to him, planting her hands on her hips.

He breathed heavily as he walked back toward her, grinning. "Pretty sure I'm gonna change _that_ stupid tradition."

She grinned back fondly, softly commenting, "Of course you will."

His gaze softened and he opened his mouth to speak, but they were interrupted by the familiar sound of a basketball hitting tarmac in a practiced pattern.

"Sorry," a male voice said. Jenny turned to see Lucas Scott, who was wearing a genuine yet somehow…_unhappy_ smile.

"Hi," she replied. "Um…Jordan, meet Lucas Scott. Lucas Scott, Jordan Lynd."

"Jordan," Lucas replied. "Good name for a basketball player."

"Or a musician," Jordan countered with a cocky grin, but he could clearly feel that this was Lucas' territory, his home turf. "We could go –"

"No, stay," Lucas insisted, cutting him off, that honest sadness shining in his eyes again. "I guess that, in a way…you could say that I fell in love on this court, too," he finished, winking at them.

Jordan's eyes bugged out of his head as he spluttered, "I – we – no – well, maybe, we, uh –"

Jenny picked up on his words: they made her smile, but she didn't acknowledge it. She stared at Lucas Scott's retreating form contemplatively. "I bet you did," she whispered.

-x-

"Well," Brooke said as she set her purse and coat on a chair near the door. "You certainly know how to make a girl chase you around."

The man sitting on the other end of the table in the boardroom looked much kinder than she'd expected her accountant to, and his smile was sweet as he said, "Just being true to my name." He stood up and extended a hand, "Brooke Davis. I'm Chase Adams; it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

As she shook his hand her eyes raked down his body – a habit even marriage hadn't been able to break her of. She swept her bangs out of her face, and remarked, "Pleasure to meet you, too."

"Should we get started?" he suggested.

Her eyebrows shot sky-high but she decided not to make any inappropriate jokes. Instead, she sighed and settled into a chair. "Yeah…sounds good."

Chase hesitated. "Are you okay?"

She opened her mouth to insist that she was fine, but then she stopped, closed her mouth, and shoved her stack of papers aside. "How much time do you have?" she asked softly, going for a joke, but it didn't sound as casual as she'd wanted it to.

He studied her for a moment, eyes drifting all over, from her brown hair, up in its businesslike bun, to her hands, which she was wringing nervously as they rested on the table. She felt the pressure of his gaze when his eyes scanned over her cleavage, but they flew upward again and rested solely on her own brown orbs. "Plenty," he finally said.

Her lips twisted into what was meant to be a smile. "And why should I trust you?"

His smile, in return, was sympathetic and almost understanding. "Because you look like you could use someone to trust."

Brooke sighed. There was a lot of truth to that statement, for sure. "Well, I…" she trailed off and sighed again before lifting her chin and making another attempt. "My best friend fell in love with my boyfriend," she stated. "Twice."

-x-

"Auntie Haley, look!"

Haley turned away from the counter to inspect Miranda's drawing. "Wow!" she exclaimed, examining the swirls and vibrant, waxy crayon. "That's _beautiful_."

"Can you tell what it is?" Mira asked, eyes shining hopefully.

"Um –" Haley was stuck. This was, in her personal opinion, the worst thing about having children under eight years of age – that and the classic _where do babies come from_? She could never decipher what any of her children were trying to draw, and the same went for her niece. "Is it a…castle?" she suggested weakly, aware of Miranda's royalty obsession.

Miranda's disappointed face was very similar to Brooke's – a pout so wounded that it actually made you want to grovel for forgiveness. "No," she sighed.

"What is it then, honey?" Haley asked, crouching down so that they were eye level.

"Doesn't matter," she lamented with a dramatic sigh. "I can't draw anyway."

"Oh, sweetie, sure you can."

"Nuh uh."

Haley wracked her brain for the right thing to say. "Well, baby…that's okay, you don't have to be a good artist. _I_ can't draw at all, not even like you can. But that's okay, because you're an awesome ballerina, and I'm a pretty good singer, right?"

Miranda smiled reluctantly, nodding. "But my mommy and daddy can draw," she argued. "Why can't I?"

She was well aware that Brooke could pull off some very professional clothing sketches, but Haley had never seen any proof that Lucas had artistic ability. In fact, she'd seen a hell of a lot of proof to the contrary. "I know your mommy can," she agreed. "But what makes you think your daddy can draw?"

"Well," Miranda began, "I was looking for an eraser, 'cause my drawing was bad, so I went into Daddy's office and opened the drawer to look for one."

"Yeah…" Haley prodded her onward.

Miranda shrugged; her story was clearly anticlimactic in her own opinion. "And there was a drawing there, of a boy and a girl. The boy looked like Daddy. He drew that, right?"

Haley smiled gently. "Sure he did." She stood upright again, taking the abstract drawing from Miranda's hands. "How about you let me put this on the fridge, alright? We'll show it to Daddy when he comes to pick you up. And for now, go get your cousins, okay? I've got cookies and carrot sticks for you guys."

Miranda scrunched up her nose. "Carrots?" she asked doubtfully.

"Yup, and you've got to eat five of those before you get a cookie, so I hope you're hungry. Off you go, kiddo."

Grumbling about healthy food, Miranda scampered off. Haley sighed, moving from the kitchen to the living room, where she studied the wall of photos she'd put so much work into. Lucas, Brooke, and Miranda grinned back at her from just right of the centre, Miranda riding piggyback, one of Lucas' arms making sure she stayed safe and in place, the other around his wife's shoulders. Haley let her gaze drift to the topmost corner, where Lucas and Peyton, young and hesitant and very much in love, smiled softly out at her.

A boy and a girl. There was no doubt in Haley's mind as to who the artist of that particular work was. She didn't know whether it was old or new. In the end, it really didn't matter.

It was odd, how entangled lives could become. Miranda had yet to meet Peyton, but Lucas' inability to let go and Peyton's inability to deny him were already wreaking havoc on Miranda's small but stable family. Haley hated to be judgmental, because she loved all of her friends, she really did. She just didn't have the same experiences, the same understanding.

Haley had _one_ in her life. One man. The only man she'd ever loved, ever slept with, ever married, ever wanted to have children with. She didn't know what it was like to have loved more than once, to have contemplated a future with anyone else. She didn't know, as Peyton did, what it was like to lose your husband. She didn't know, as Brooke did, what it was like to be on the verge of the end of a marriage in which her husband felt trapped.

It was hard for her to get into Lucas' head in these circumstances. She believed wholeheartedly that he had been in love with both Peyton and Brooke, at different times and to different degrees. She knew how very torn he was now. It was just that Haley could not imagine ever loving anyone as much as she did Nathan, enough to get married and start a family. Lucas and Peyton had both done so, and yet…

And yet.

Haley guessed that if something was written in the stars, then that was how it was going to be, even if they all had to take the hits of a couple asteroids first. Sometimes it was easy to read your fate and give into it. And sometimes it wasn't – sometimes it was full-out battle and it took the sun blazing into your eyes to finally put an end to your blindness, to finally bring about the realization that all instincts to the contrary, all the paths that guided you away were wrong.

Jenny had borrowed Peyton's sunglasses and accidentally left them at the studio the other day. Haley chose to see that as a sign.

-x-

Lucas was stuck in a gloomy funk that night, staring miserably at his laptop. Miranda was over at Nathan and Haley's for the night, which left him alone in a large, quiet house. Still, the silence and the space could not hold his thoughts.

He sighed and paced down the hallway, turning onto the stairs. He needed to get out into the world, to find what he was looking for, once and for all. The night air was invigorating and energizing, so much so that he made the impulsive decision to go for a run. He had a destination in mind, a sense of home he was searching for. But it was a person rather than a place who filled that void for him.

-x-

Peyton was lying flat on her back in the middle of the river court, Lucas' manuscript laying open over her stomach. The stars twinkled above her, giving her a sense of impossible hope, a feeling she hadn't had since the first time Jenny called her _mama_.

Her view of the sky was abruptly disrupted by the sight of Lucas' face looming over hers. "You're crying," he said gently. "Is it that bad?"

She sat up and brushed away her tears, running her left hand over the pages that had fallen into her lap. She tilted her chin, looking up at the brightness of the stars and the glowing, pale blue of his eyes. "It's that _good_."

She lifted one of her hands upward. He took it automatically and she tugged lightly, pulling him down to sit on the tarmac beside her. "I can't…I can't believe you _wrote_ this, it's…it's beautiful."

"It's about astronomy," he shrugged, and she knew he was testing her.

"No, it's about…love. Love and faith and…yearning. It's about longing. It breaks my heart."

His grip tightened on her hand. "I couldn't have written it if not for you. If you hadn't come back."

"This is it," she said meaningfully, continuing to run her hand across the page.

_And suddenly his life had meaning_.

"We both…we know what this is and what it means. It's a…a tribute. It's our ending."

"Or a new beginning," he countered.

"_No_," she insisted hotly. "I will _not_ be the girl who breaks up a marriage. I already did that, to you and Brooke. Don't do that to me, don't put me in that position!"

"You're not," he soothed. "I'm not. This isn't your fault."

"Luke…_no_." She didn't want any situation to occur in which there would be blame that needed placing. "You love her. Don't you love her? You married her, you had a child!"

"I'm not trying to hurt them," he said quietly.

"But you _are_. You and I…_us_. That'll hurt people!"

"So, what?" he demanded. "We just put our own happiness aside for everyone else?"

"Lucas, we had our chance. We messed it up. So yeah, that _is_ what we do. We can be happy apart. We've been doing it for years. It's not as though we can't be…friends." She winced the moment the word left her lips, and Nathan's voice, unbidden, popped into her head. _Lame, Sawyer. Very lame_.

"You once told me…" Lucas began, "that the only way you can truly know that you're alive is to be in love. Why do you insist on denying yourself that?"

She stared at him in shock. When she'd said that to him, she'd been referencing her relationship with Jake – who had just disappeared. Lucas was with Brooke. The two blondes were sitting on the beach, toes buried in the sand, just talking. And while she had said those things about Jake, she had really been talking about how she felt with _him_, with Lucas. She'd never suspected that he knew that. But he did. He clearly did.

She glanced down at the manuscript again before she met his eyes, shooting back, "Why do you insist on breaking Brooke's heart? This triangle should have ended a fucking decade ago!"

Lucas' eyes were dark with meaning. "It can't end until we're with who we're really meant to be with."

She turned away. "I should never have come back. _Stupid_ Chris Keller and his music camp."

"I never thought…I would thank Chris Keller. But I do, for starting that 'stupid' music camp."

"If you love me, Luke, just let me go," she begged tiredly.

He shook his head, staring deeply into her green orbs. "If you really meant it, Peyt, I would try. But you don't."

She was breathing erratically, the night air cool enough so that her breathe left her lips in smoke-like puffs. "I hate you," she choked out, but the look in his eyes told the truth that both knew, and she couldn't help but admit it. "I love you," she whispered, and suddenly she could breathe again. "God, I love you."

His arms circled around her and it seemed like no time at all had passed before his tongue was begging for entrance to her mouth. Their bodies moved in sync as if they could read each other's minds, and before long her was on his back and she was half on top of him, half tucked into his side, her lips attacking his.

A sudden gust of wind rushed over them, and it picked up all the loose sheets of Lucas' manuscript, blowing them into the air, where they swirled around the couple before they mounted higher, flying toward the stairs.

Peyton pulled back, looking up and gasping, "Luke, what about _The Comet_?"

His hands on her cheeks called her attention back; his fingers felt soothingly cold against her overheated skin. "I've got her, haven't I?"

-x-

Haley sighed contentedly as she pressed her index finger to a button, stopping the song that Jenny had recorded earlier that day. She was killing it, that girl, and Haley was incredibly proud.

Nathan was at home with a houseful of kids – the twins, Miranda, and Sebastian were asleep when Haley left, and she could practically picture the scene at home. Nathan, half asleep on the couch in front of a basketball game, Jamie and Jenny playing cards outside, feet dangling in the pool. Her family. She couldn't wait to get home.

Just as she closed her binder and was about to stand, she heard the door open and fall closed. She frowned, glancing over at the clock and swivelling around in her chair. She was really not in the mood for Chris Keller, so she called, hopefully, "Peyton?"

Brooke came into view, dropping her purse on a nearby chair and raising her hand in a meek wave. "Nope, me," she said. Unspoken was, _y'know, the other girl Lucas claims to love_.

"Hey, honey," Haley said. "I thought you were in NY."

"Yeah, I…took an early flight back," she replied, flopping down into the chair closest to Haley. "I was hoping you'd be here. Well, you or Chris. I could use the sex," she said sarcastically.

Haley's frown deepened with worry as she tried to get to the root of the problem. "Did your meetings not go well?"

"No, they were…all my financial stuff is fine. Pretty much perfect, actually. And my new accountant's…he's a good guy. We had a good conversation."

"Good," Haley nodded, still studying her friend worriedly.

"Yeah," the brunette whispered, staring at the floor. "It made me realize how much I missed home, so I thought I would…come back."

"Brooke," Haley said softly. "What is it, what's going on?"

Brooke's lips trembled as she smiled, but she pretended to be blasé about stating, "Lucas and Peyton are sneaking around behind my back again. Total and complete déjà vu."

Haley shot her a look that she hoped was both comforting and reprimanding. She spotted Peyton's sunglasses out of the corner of her eye. "Not funny."

Brooke's eyebrows lifted and her gaze was unfaltering. "Not a joke."


	26. Nachtmusik

**A/N:** Merry Christmas a couple days late! And happy holidays in general. This chapter's a little shorter than my usual ones, and this is by no means the end of the conflict, but I wanted to get an update up because you guys are the world's best readers, no contest. Reviews make great little belated presents. :P Read away.

**Nachtmusik:** German for "night music"; usually describes a serenade, the best known of which is one of Mozart's

They stayed at the river court for hours, until the early summer sun began its rise. Neither of them had a daughter to get home to on that particular moment, but the sun beamed down on them, exposing them, and they both interpreted it as a warning that they better get up and go home.

Wordlessly, Lucas stood and offered her his hands. The sun glared into her eyes as he pulled her to her feet. Her elbows were bruised and her lips were tingling; she knew without looking at herself that she was starry-eyed.

She'd walked to the court, so he drove her the short distance home in his SUV. There was a picture taped to the dashboard, of a precious little girl with a perfect pout and pretty brown eyes. Brooke's clone, and undoubtedly Lucas' daughter. Guilt tugged at her heartstrings. She had to say something, anything, even if it was just, _she's beautiful, Luke_. She had to acknowledge the reality of things.

But when she looked over at him, he looked straight back at her, their eyes locking, and she just _couldn't_.

_"It was stupid, okay? You're with Brooke now."_

_"Yeah."_

_"We just…we got carried away. It didn't mean anything."_

_"It didn't?"_

_"Of course it did."_

She didn't have it in her to regret it now, no more than she had then.

Some things really never did change.

He walked her to the stairs and kissed her in the doorway of her apartment until she giggled like a sixteen-year-old. He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes seriously before speaking for the first time in hours: "I _never_ want to go that long without touching you again."

She sank into one last blissful kiss, powerless after those words, before he pulled away, flashing a gentle smile that promised that they would find away to make this work.

"I'll be seein' ya."

She nodded and tripped backward into her apartment, just as tongue-tied and worried and in love as she'd been all those years ago.

Sleep seemed like the most logical move. She'd been up all night and she knew that, despite the way her body was buzzing, she was exhausted.

If she got into bed she'd never be able to get to sleep. Her minds itched and her mind raced as her eyes scanned her living space. She spotted a paintbrush and smiled.

-x-

Lucas felt like whistling for the briefest moment as he walked through his doorway and tossed his keys on the table. He shook his head at his own silliness and bit back a smile.

"Hey, you."

He literally jumped a foot off the ground at the sound of his wife's voice. "He-hey," he stuttered, feeling idiotic and stereotypical and very much _caught_.

Her smile was tired and tight. She didn't move; rather she waited in the living room for him to come to her, legs crossed primly and hair tumbling onto her shoulders.

"You're back early," he said, as casually and as happily as he could.

"Where's my daughter?" she asked simply, arching an eyebrow.

He frowned as an uncomfortable chill rushed down his spine. "_Our_ daughter is at Nathan and Haley's for the night. She wanted to see her cousins."

"Right. Okay."

He walked over to her. "I didn't expect you home so soon. Did your meetings go well?"

She looked up at him and shook her hand of so slightly, but he knew that that movement corresponding with an internal thought, not with the answer to the question he'd asked her. "Where've you been all this time?"

"What time did you get here?"

"Stop that," she ordered, and he knew why; she'd always hated it when he answered questions with questions. He did it playfully from time to time, just to annoy her. "Where were you?"

"The river court."

"Right, right…I saw you there, when I was driving home."

He swallowed hard, fighting off the déjà vu. Peyton had been this person last time. He didn't know how to be in this moment. He didn't even know if he could look at his wife.

"When?" he asked quietly.

"About the time you were making out with Peyton." She shrugged as though it meant nothing, but her eyes were shooting daggers at him and her voice was hostile.

He sank down in the chair across from her, keeping a safe five feet between them. "Brooke…"

"You are such a _coward_," she spit out. "If I hadn't called you on it, what would you have done? Just left it? Pretended it never happened? Continued to make a total fool out of me?"

"Brooke, no," he tried again.

"Sometimes I don't know, Luke," she said, cutting him off. "If you've been making a fool out of me for the past week…or if it's been for the past few years."

"Brooke, please…"

"I just don't _understand_." The slightest bit of desperation leaked into her voice, but her eyes stayed free of tears. "How long have you been in _love_ with her? _Forever_?"

"No," he said fiercely, because she couldn't believe that. He stood at an altar with her, said _I do_ and he _meant _it, damn it. He doesn't ever want her to think otherwise.

"Were you just _waiting_ with me?

"No, _Brooke_," he said forcefully. He didn't want her to cut him off again. "I love you." She scoffed, and he frowned. "_I do_. I always have, and in a lot of ways I always will."

"And Peyton?" she challenged him bitingly.

"I guess it's…I guess it's the same thing."

"But in a different way."

He couldn't answer her. But he didn't have to. He knew, she knew. And in a lot of ways, they always had.

"Do you hate me?" he asked softly. He could understand it if she did, but because he did love her, he didn't want her to. He'd never wanted it to come to this. He wanted to blame Peyton for coming back, to blame Brooke for lying to herself, but in the end it was really all his own fault.

She just looked down.

"I mean…you're mad. I know you're mad, it's understandable that you're mad, and –"

Brooke shook her head and cut him off, looking up and staring deeply, sadly into his eyes. "I'm not mad, Lucas," she said simply, echoing her words from the Naley wedding, the day that had started and ended so many things. "I'm not mad."

He looked back, trying to convey all the apologies he could through his eyes. She broke their locked gaze first and stood up, snatching up her coat and slipping her arms into the sleeves. "I can't be here with you right now," she hugged as she picked up her purse and made her way for the door.

"Brooke," he sighed, and realized that he hadn't said much since he'd arrived home besides her name.

"The words 'vicious cycle' just mean more and more to me everyday," she sighed, using a fake, syrupy voice. "I am _done_, Lucas," she said tiredly, placing one hand on the doorknob. "I always blamed Peyton just a little bit more, because she was my best friend, and when you hurt me she was supposed to be there for me, not be a part of it. I told her, a few days ago, that we couldn't be friends if you and I were going to stay together. But no matter what I do, you _both_ betray me, and what am I left with? _Nothing._ I'm the one who always gets screwed over, and I am so fucking _over _it. We're getting a divorce."

His heart leapt into his throat and he jumped up. "Brooke, no, wait –"

She sighed heavily and shook her head again, looking at him incredulously, clearly more than disappointed. "Look me in the eye and tell me that's not what you want."

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his eyes fell to stare at his shoes.

"That's what I thought," she whispered, and when he looked up again, she was gone.

-x-

Peyton was kicked out on her comfy white couch in the apartment over Tric, lazily sketching away with a small smile on her lips. She'd painted the entire room again, a kind of abstract representation of a sunset over the ocean. Every time she looked at her walls she had to bite back a goofy grin. Her blues were bluer and her pinks were pinker again.

"Hey." Her eyes shot up to find Brooke standing in the doorway, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Hey," she responded softly, setting her sketchpad to the side. The scenario reeked of a similar scene many moons ago.

Brooke jutted her chin out, gesturing to the walls. "This is gorgeous."

"Thanks," Peyton said, keeping her tone muted as she searched Brooke's face for some sort of clues as to what she knew and what she was feeling.

"You'd have to be happy to paint something this beautiful."

Peyton could only nod, figuring it would be best to wait out Brooke's small talk so they could just move on to the bitch-slapping and incredulous yelling that she knew she deserved.

Brooke sniffled and looked down. "Damn, this feels like high school all over again."

"Brooke," Peyton said quietly, unable to find the words for the apology she owed her best friend.

"God, Peyton…" she muttered, taking a few steps further into the room. Peyton sat upright, prepared to take her fury. "I gave you a second chance, and another…I gave you so many chances to just let _me_ have _my_ boy, but you never could." Tears pooled in her brown eyes as she looked at Peyton with a sort of resigned bitterness. "You always fucked it up…and he always let you," she choked out.

"Brooke," she said again immediately, her heart in her voice.

Her old friend marched across the room, and Peyton braced herself for a slap, but Brooke simply sat next to her, much closer than she would have expected from the angry brunette. "I was so mad today, at both of you, while I thought about it, and then I realized that it'd _always_ been the two of you, I just didn't want to see it. No matter how much I yell or scream or how many times I slap you, that's not going to change."

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I know that it seems stupid or…hurtful to tell you that I didn't ask for this, Brooke, but really, I didn't. I swear to you, and I really am sorry."

Brooke nodded briskly, wiping away her tears. "I know you are. You chose Jake for me. You chose him because you loved him, but also because you knew you couldn't love Lucas. And I was the reason for that. God, I was so stupid to ask you to come and watch me marry him."

"I _would_ have, Brooke," Peyton told her honestly. "I just…"

"You couldn't. I know."

"Yeah."

Brooke pressed her lips together and shook her head. "I need to let him go."

Peyton's breath caught in her throat. "Wh…what?"

She swallowed hard. "I got a lot of things out of my marriage with Lucas. Somebody to support me with Clothes over Bro's, a perfect little girl, and someone who loved me. A big house and an idyllic life. Maybe sometimes I feared that I was his second pick, but in the end it didn't matter because I _was_ his pick. I hid there," she shrugged. "I hid in my marriage because I was afraid of living big." She grimaced. "I guess now I can, huh?"

"Brooke," Peyton breathed in amazement, not sure if she could possibly be hearing what she was hearing.

Brooke's tears spilled down her cheeks. "Just take care of him, okay?" she got out, her voice clogged with the sobs that welled in her throat. "I know that you know him so much better than I do, I just want…he's such an ass sometimes, but I…I want him to be good."

"I'm so sorry," Peyton said simply, though the words were packed with meaning.

Brooke nodded but didn't respond.

"He'll be good," she assured her friend gently, tears gathering in her own green orbs. "And _you'll_ be good. You're amazing, Brooke. It's okay to be afraid, and it's okay to need people, but you could conquer the world blindfolded and with your hands tied behind your back. And you're going to. What…what you're doing for me right now…I don't want to ask you to make this sacrifice, but you are, and I owe you forever, so don't be scared to call in any favours. I would give up my happiness for yours, if you asked me to." She bit her lip as a single tear escaped her right eye. "I love you, B. Davis. Always have, always will, and I have _never_ meant to hurt you. I regret it every time I do."

Brooke's face crumpled. "I _really_ hate you right now."

Peyton nodded in understanding, and then gathered her best friend into her arms comfortingly and let her cry.


	27. Passacaglia

**A/N: **I suck. I know. But here it is, an update! The next one should be faster, because things get good from here. :) Feedback is always appreciated, but you must know that by now.

This one's for **Caitlyn Rose**. I did, so now you better! ;)

Passacaglia: indicates music with a recurrent harmonic progression

Someone was watching him. He recognized the sensation as he woke up, and it pulled him quickly from his slumber. He blinked until his surroundings came into focus, and he found that the person staring at him was his wife, perched on the coffee table next to the couch he'd fallen asleep on. She was still wearing her coat, clutched tightly around her, and gripping a thick, legal envelope. But she was smiling as she watched him sleep, even though it was entirely reluctant.

"Hey," he said softly, hoarsely. "You're home." He glanced around. "What time is it?"

Her smile twisted into a frown. "I would say 'time to get a watch', but I feel like we have more important things to deal with first."

"Brooke," Lucas groaned, but it was an apologetic sound.

She dropped the envelope unceremoniously into his lap. "I spent half the night with Maureen," she said simply, referring their lawyer. "I signed them already. If anything seems unfair to you, you know who to call."

He stared down at it. "I'm sure everything's fine."

"Great. You wanna sign them now?" Her foot tapped hastily against the floor in a nervous beat.

Lucas took a moment to study her face. She was calm, but he realized, upon further inspection, that it wasn't just a fake mask, put on to ward off questions. She was making her peace with this. She just wanted to do it _right now_, before she had any time to have her breakdown. Or maybe, he realized, as he looked at the bags under her eyes, she already had.

"This isn't easy for me, you know." He didn't want to get a divorce as a snap decision, not like this. He loved her. They had a child to think about. And while he was sure everything outlined in the papers was perfectly reasonable, he wished they had time to talk about who gets what, to say a proper goodbye, whatever that was. It was strange how they'd both somehow managed to walk out on their marriage and yet remain so very attached to one another.

Brooke seemed to read his mind, because she didn't stay anything. Instead, she pulled the papers out of the envelope and set them down next to her. She reached out and took his hand, curling his fingers around a pen, and sat back to wait. He knew they didn't need to bother with court officials and technicalities. Maureen adored Brooke; she was an expert at pulling strings and finding loopholes.

He signed on the dotted line on each of the pages that required his consent. When he hit the last one, he didn't hesitant, but he felt a strange sensation. He was both heavier and lighter. Both losing and gaining, all at once.

When he finished, his now ex-wife gathered the papers up efficiently and smoothly slid them back into the envelope. She was wearing her business face as she placed them in her purse.

Lucas didn't know what to say. He just watched her.

She pulled out a large bottle of expensive red wine. It had a twist-off cap that she undid with only the slightest amount of effort before grabbing two wine glasses that had been sitting just behind her, where he couldn't see. She poured the wine, her hand shaking a little bit. He accepted a glass from her without question.

She stared at his knee. "I'm going to go to New York," she said steadily. "To COB headquarters. Victoria's anxious to talk business."

Lucas grimaced on her behalf. Over the years, she'd learned the art of controlling her power-crazed mother, but Victoria still wasn't anyone's favourite person.

Brooke smiled sadly. "Don't worry about it. You know I can deal with her. Besides, I feel like…that's where I need to be right now. I've always thrown myself into my work after we…we break up. It's the way I heal best, you know?" She took a deep breath. "I want to take Miranda with me."

His heart skipped a nervous beat. "Oh?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"Not for too long," she assured him. "I'd never take her from you, I…I know how much you love her." She blinked rapidly and continued strongly, "I don't know how long I'll be going, but if it gets to be too long, I'll bring her back so that she can spend some time with you. I'd just…I'd like to keep her with me for right now. I want to be the one to tell her about this."

"We should do it together," he protested.

Brooke shook her head and continued to speak as though he'd never interrupted: "I also think it's a good idea for…for you. You have a lot to think about, a lot to work out. You've got big decisions to make." She exhaled slowly. "After you make those decisions, I'll send her back to you, and she can get to know Peyton."

Lucas gaped at her in amazement.

"What?" she asked self-consciously. "What did I say?"

"It's not what you said. It's what you _didn't_ say. Why haven't you called me a jackass yet? Why haven't you slapped me? How are you so _calm_? Where's the screaming?"

She sighed as if she'd hoped he wouldn't ask. "Look, Luke, you are a jackass. You totally are. You married me. We have a little girl. This shouldn't be happening now. You can feel free to take all of that and shoulder the guilt."

"Thanks?"

Brooke tried to hold back a chuckle but couldn't. "_But_," she sighed, "I know that…I was kind of a jackass too." She smiled weakly. "I was a bitch to you. Speak of the devil, right? Me and Victoria. Apples and trees."

"Brooke, no –"

She waved aside any reassurances or protests he meant to offer up, carrying on, "I pressured you into it. From the very beginning, from that day I sat…naked in the backseat of your car…I pressured you. Into our relationship, into marriage, into having a baby. I controlled it all. The thing is that you…you were the first person who ever wanted me for _me_, without any…any ulterior motives. And I was scared to lose that. It was stupid, but I wanted to keep you, even though I shouldn't have because I always knew…that you loved her more. When she was gone, you had to pick me. Because it was the right thing to do." She met his eyes for the briefest of moments. "But the right thing isn't always the thing that's best for you." Her devilish smirk lit up her face, exposing her dimples. "I should know."

He smiled back gratefully. "I love you, you know that?"

She nodded. She did know _exactly_ which ways he loved her, and which ways he didn't.

"You don't…you don't hate me?"

"Oh, _honey_," she said, laughing lightly. "I _totally_ hate you." She twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. "But it's not going to make you love her any less." She blinked a couple times, her brown eyes moist. She lifted her glass, tilting it toward. Her chin quivered. "To the end," she said, trying to grin.

He reached across the space between them and took her hand, looking her in the eye. He spoke pointedly as he tapped his glass gently against her. "Or the beginning."

-x-

"Knock, knock," Peyton said, leaning into the recording studio. She was tired, but nowhere near done sorting things out.

Jenny's face lit up like it used to when she was a little kid, melting Peyton's heart. "Hey, Mom!" she said enthusiastically, hopping up and running over to hug her forcefully.

"Whoa," Peyton laughed, hugging her tightly in return. "Hey, baby girl."

"It feels like _forever_ since I've seen you."

Peyton smiled apologetically. It had been a few days. "I know, hon. But you've been busy."

Jenny eyed her suspiciously before stating, "So were you."

Peyton could feel herself blushing as Haley glanced over, her eyes a mixture of emotions. "Touché," she commented nervously. "Hey, Hales…can I borrow Jen for a few?"

"Of course you can," Haley said softly. "Hey, honey, why don't you wait downstairs for your mom?"

The teenager glanced back and forth between them for a moment. "O-kay," she said slowly, stretching out the word as she made her exit.

Haley clearly knew something. Peyton stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching as her friend took a deep breath.

"What's up, Hales?"

Haley braced her arms on either side of her legs, hands grasping the piano bench. She looked down before meeting Peyton's eyes. "You and Luke…?" It was a question, and yet it wasn't.

Peyton lifted her shoulders helplessly. "I'm not proud of it, Haley."

To her surprise, Haley's eyes filled with tears. "I want you to be _happy_. You and Jenny both. I'm trying so hard not to be judgmental, but this breaks my heart and…" She sighed as she trailed off. "Every time. It's a cycle, and every single time it breaks my heart because one of you _always_ gets hurt."

The blonde took a couple tentative steps toward her. "Brooke will be okay," she promised. "I won't let her not be. Same goes for their little girl."

Haley's expression was a mixture of pride and disappointment. "And Luke? You and Luke?"

It was Peyton's turn for a sudden onslaught of tears pricking at her eyes. "I don't know, Haley," she confessed. "I've been happy before. Jake made me happy. But Lucas…he's my soulmate, but sometimes it hurts so much that I…"

"You wonder if it's worth it?" Haley predicted, her voice gentle. She folded her hands in her lap, relaxing her position. "Think about all the…all the fucking _drama_ that has lead up to this moment. And then ask yourself, how can it _not_ be?"

Peyton sniffled, smiling despite herself as she glanced down at the floor, scuffing the toe of her shoe. "You must be serious," she teased, "you _never_ curse, Haley James Scott."

Haley rolled her eyes. "I want you to make good on your promise. Brooke is like your sister and she needs you." She sighed heavily, finally giving in. "And if you're really going to be there for her, then I want you to get your ass out of my studio, talk this out with your daughter, and _go get your guy_."

-x-

"So how's Jordan?" Peyton asked devilishly, breaking the ice as she strode down the boardwalk with her daughter.

Jenny's eyes clouded over with secretive affection. "He's good," she said shyly before giving Peyton a knowing glance. "So you and Lucas, right?"

"How…how could you possibly…"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "It's kind of obvious. So…let's talk about what we're really here to talk about. Your guy, not mine."

Peyton smiled softly. "Tell me what you're thinking. How you feel about this."

Jenny took a deep breath. "I don't…I don't know. It's just…it's weird. You never even mentioned this place. Ever. But you grew up here. Your best friends are here. You _know_ some of my music idols _personally_. And about Lucas specifically, I guess…it's just obvious that there's a lot of history there. And…sexual tension."

"Jenny," Peyton sighed, exasperated, even though her fourteen-year-old was right.

"You know I'm right," Jenny insisted, voicing her thoughts. "And, well, it's weird because he's _married_. To your best friend or ex-best friend or whatever. It just seems kind of shady."

Peyton winced.

Jenny heaved a sigh. "I don't know. I kind of want to be mad about you, or tell you it's wrong. I mean, I know you'll take my opinion into consideration, but that in the end it's about…you. And I don't…I'm not mad, and I don't think it's wrong."

Her mother's eyebrows shot upward. "No?"

She shook her head. "It makes sense, now. All the secrecy and the lies and everything. This is the place you fell in love, serious love, not teenage-crush stuff. This is the place that made you the happiest and the saddest you've ever been." She glanced at Peyton out of the corner of her eye. "You should let it make you happy again."

Peyton inhaled sharply. "Jen," she said softly, placing a hand on her daughter's elbow and coming to a stop. She looked directly at her daughter. "Are you sure?"

Jenny's lips trembled. "No," she admitted shakily. "It seems like my life has never been as complicated as it is right now and I'm scared."

"Jenny –"

Her daughter cut her off, determination in the depths of the eyes she'd inherited from her father, at least in emotional capacity. "But I want you to try." Peyton reached out instantly, pulling her into a comforting hug. Jenny buried her face in her mother's shoulder and repeated, "I want you to try."

-x-

"Hey," Nathan greeted his brother amiably when Lucas showed up at his house that afternoon.

"Hey, bro," Lucas replied as he stepped inside. "I see you've got the Mr. Mom thing down," he added teasingly, gesturing to Sebastian, who was resting contentedly in his father's arms, half-asleep.

"Don't start with me, _Prince Lucas_," Nathan shot back. "And speaking of royalty, Mira's upstairs playing with the twins. Want me to get her?"

"Yeah," Lucas said slowly, "thanks."

Nathan studied him worriedly for a moment. "You're not even going to try to rebuke my comment about you wearing _tiaras_ to Miranda's tea parties?"

Lucas smiled weakly. "Not today."

The younger Scott brother frowned. "What's going on?"

"Uh…Brooke and I got divorced today."

Nathan nearly dropped his son. "What?!" he cried, startling Sebastian. "Are you crazy? I didn't even know you two were having problems! What _problems_ could you _possibly_ be having? Don't divorces take _time_?"

"Not with Brooke's income," Lucas said simply, answering only the last of Nathan's questions.

"Tell me what's going on," his younger brother demanded.

"Peyton." One word was enough of an answer in this situation. "Look, Nathan, I know this is…sudden and crazy and…it probably seems insane. But I'm here to pick up Mira; Brooke's going to New York for a couple weeks and she's taking her with her."

Nathan's jaw dropped. "Holy –" He stopped himself, remembering that he was holding his toddler. "_Damn_," he growled, "I miss a lot, staying at home like this." He walked over to the staircase. "Mira!" he called, glancing over at his brother in concern, "Your Dad's here to get you!"

"Daddy!" she squealed happily as she tripped down the stairs, launching herself into his arms.

"Hey, princess," he greeted her as he lifted her up. "Guess what?"

"What?" she asked eagerly.

"I have a surprise for you." Knowing that she, like Brooke, didn't like to be kept waiting, he rushed on to say, "Mommy's going to New York, and you get to go too!" He forced himself to smile at her ecstatic expression.

Her joy faded momentarily as she asked, "You're not coming?"

"Not this time, honey," he said softly, well-aware that Nathan was still watching them, trying to fill in the blanks.

Haley walked in at that moment carrying her guitar, Jenny just behind her. "Hey," she said. Spotting Lucas holding Miranda she repeated, "_Hey_," with much more meaning. Her voice was subdued; neither of the men could tell what she was thinking.

She set down her guitar, reached over and gave Jenny's elbow a squeeze as if providing some support, and approached her husband and brother-in-law. Sensing how difficult it would be for Lucas to part with his daughter, she suggested, "Why don't I take Miranda to her mom? I've been meaning to check in with Brooke anyway."

Lucas could practically _see_ Nathan trying to understand what, exactly, she meant by her comment. He kissed Miranda's forehead and whispered that he loved her more than anything into her small ear, and reluctantly handed her over to Haley. "Thanks," he said quietly, knowing that this was her way of telling him that she was going to help make this okay.

Her eyes smiled though her lips were set in a frown. "Peyton's looking for you, I'm sure," she said mutedly.

His eyes widened with shock, and travelled through the house until they settled on Jenny. She was paler than usual and she looked particularly tired. Lucas had stopped to consider his daughter's wellbeing many times, but he had yet to really think about Peyton's daughter's. There was a moment of horrible doubt before Jenny inclined her head in the subtlest of nods.

And he knew he had all the blessings he needed.

-x-

Peyton wasn't just looking for him, she was _waiting _for him, pacing back and forth in front of his house as dusk descended on the small town they'd both grown up in. She ran her hands through her hair nervously and sighed for the infinite time.

"Hey."

She spun around when she heard his voice. "Luke." She breathed out his name in relief, like a prayer of a solution to an impossible problem.

He smiled softly, taking a couple steps closer to her and resting his hands on her hips. Her hands found their way to his chest, gripping at his collar like she always had. She took a deep breath and leaned forward slightly. Their foreheads rested together.

Her voice was delicate and vulnerable; she spoke looking up at him through her eyelashes, which were fluttering madly, partially hiding her heady green eyes. "Are we really going to do this?" she whispered.

Lucas felt as though he'd been waiting years for this moment, to see the setting sun illuminating her golden locks like a halo, her breath mingling with his in the late-evening heat. He grinned and felt her relax, leaning into him. "Baby," he breathed, his voice deep and packed with everything he'd been holding in, "We were _always_ going to do this."


	28. Vocalise

**A/N: **This quick-updating thing will probably not last, so enjoy it now! It's awesome, huh? :P I'm so happy to get to this chapter. I've had the Peyton-Jenny conversation at the end written since Chapter 2, so you can't even understand how happy I am to get it out there. This chapter turned out differently than I intended, but on the whole, I'm happy with it. Reviews are LOVE.

Vocalise: a vocal work that is comprehensible without words

"You are _so_ beautiful…"

Peyton giggled breathlessly as Lucas buried his face in the space between her shoulder and neck, kissing the skin there. "You're pretty good-looking yourself," she teased. She gasped lightly when he found the spot that drove her crazy, murmuring, "And you're pretty good at that, too."

Lucas grinned cockily when he pulled back, gazing down at her adoringly before brushing his lips against hers. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hm," she said with a nod, lifting her chin slightly to nip at his lips.

He sighed, giving her one last kiss before settling his body at her side and pulling her close. "This last week has been perfect, you know that?"

"Yeah," she whispered, fingers tracing down his jaw line. She loved his jaw. She loved every single bit of him. "I feel like I've been waiting forever."

Lucas kissed the tips of each of her fingers. "Worth every second."

She smiled fondly, cuddling her cheek into the pillow a bit more as she blushed. "I wanted this so bad," she admitted. "But I'm glad we waited, even if it was so long. That first time…it was everything I wanted with you."

His eyes skimmed over her sheet-covered body. It was obvious that he was mentally undressing her, but his smile was all sweetness. "It was perfect. You're perfect. That night was…so perfect."

She sighed, wishing she had words to tell him how she felt at that moment. "Saying that just earned you another one," she said instead, her lips turning upward in a mischievous way.

"Oh yeah?" Lucas asked daringly, making her giggle as he peppered kisses over her cheeks and neck again.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I wish we could just stay here," she added as she sighed. "It's been so nice, pretending the world doesn't exist. We both know it's more complicated outside of our bubble."

He nodded in agreement but said, "I'm almost looking forward to facing reality."

Her eyebrows shot upward. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want everyone to know. I want to show you off to the world. I want to hold your hand and buy you popcorn at movies and take you home at night without having to sneak around." He kissed her palm. "I want everything with you."

His hand drifted upward and she caught it, tangling their fingers together. "Now we have it," she said on an exhale. She tried to smile as she met his eyes. "We're going to figure this out…right?"

Lucas kissed her temple. "Yes. I promise you, yes, we are."

She smiled back genuinely, her fingers still dancing with his. "I can't wait to meet Mira," she said hopefully. "Do you think she'll like me?"

"She'll love you."

Peyton scowled at him. "Seriously, Lucas."''

"She will," he assured her earnestly. "And…what about Jenny? Where does she stand on all of this?"

"Right here!" a high-pitched, horrified squeal interjected, and Lucas and Peyton both sat up and turned to look at the door, where Jenny was standing. She was holding a tray with two coffee cups firmly settled into it in one hand; her other hand was busy covering her eyes.

"Jen!" Peyton cried.

"Yeah, standing _right here_. And in answer to your question, generally I'm okay with this, but right now it is _really freaking uncomfortable and awkward_."

"Understandably," Lucas agreed, trying to lighten the mood.

Peyton shot him a silencing look. "Babe, um…you know I'm always happy to see you, but…what are you doing here?"

"I just…I thought I'd bring you some coffee," Jenny squeaked out, still hiding her eyes. "But you're clearly, um, busy. So I'll come back later."

"Jenny," Peyton said as soothingly as she could, grabbing Lucas' button-down and pulling it on. "Hang on –"

"No, _really_, Mom…I can't be here right now. Here, uh…you guys can have the coffee." She set it down carefully without looking at them before hastily yelling "Bye!" and leaving Peyton's apartment as fast as her feet would carry her.

"Damn it," Peyton said quietly. That had never, ever happened to her before.

"You okay?" Lucas asked softly, his hand resting gently on her back. "Do you want to go after her? Or do you want me to go?"

She smiled over at him, shaking her head. "No. She needs time right now to…deal with that. I'll catch up with her at the studio a little later, when, hopefully…she'll have erased that image from her memory. For now…we have the coffee," she sighed.

"Don't sound so excited about it." He was teasing her, but he also understood.

Peyton groaned. "It's just…that was totally reality knocking on the door, wasn't it?"

"Bashing it down," he corrected her, smiling playfully. "It'll be okay, Peyton."

She grinned back, however reluctantly, watching as he walked over to fetch the caffeine. When he said it, she always believed it.

-x-

"_So I won't hesitate no more, no more. It cannot wait, I'm sure. There's no need to complicate, our time is short. This is our fate, I'm yours,_" Peyton sang along with her playlist as she idly flipped through her binder. She was in the process of sending emails and making phone calls to check in with her LA label.

"Oh, my," Haley said teasingly, a knowing note to her melodic voice as she walked into the studio, which currently wasn't being used, Nathan trailing her.

"What?" Peyton asked defensively, but she couldn't stop smiling.

"Jason Mraz? _I'm Yours_?" Nathan asked, his eyebrows rising. "Sawyer," he chuckled, "you have got it _bad_."

"Shut up," she grumbled, trying to ignore them.

"We just stopped by to see how you were doing," Haley said. "But clearly, you're _good_." She smiled softly. "You know Brooke comes back in a couple days, right?"

"Oh, I know." She sighed. "I think about it a lot."

Nathan idly picked up a record and studied it. "You nervous?"

"In a lot of ways, no. I've known Brooke for so long and…we're going to be okay." She tossed her pen aside and sighed. "But in a few ways…yes. I'm really nervous."

Haley half-smiled sympathetically. She was on the fence, torn between her best girl friends. "Hey!" she said brightly. "Want me to be there when you guys talk?"

Peyton rolled her eyes affectionately. "No, Hales, we don't need a mediator," she said calmly. She sucked in some air, breathing, "I hope."

Chris Keller burst into the room, his eyes frantic. Peyton had seen him look depressed, but never quite so…undone. He stopped the moment he saw that she had company, plastering on a smile and saying, "Hey, _guys_," in such a purposefully, obviously forced casual way that it was almost humorous.

But somehow, they all knew it wasn't funny. Peyton stood up, studying his face carefully. "What is it?" she asked, her tone urgent.

He held his hands out as if he wanted to touch her, comfort her; or maybe stop her from doing something drastic. She couldn't read him well. They hadn't spoken much since she'd gotten with Lucas again – they'd told no one, but of course everyone knew. "Okay, listen…I don't want you to panic."

Of course, that sent Peyton's heartbeat into overdrive.

"You _idiot_," Haley hissed at Chris, whacking his arm with her purse. "You never tell someone not to panic if you don't want them to panic."

Jenny, then Lucas, flashed through Peyton's mind. She stared Chris down, gritting her teeth. "What _happened_?"

"Okay, well…there's no easy way for the Keller to say this…"

"_Chris_!" she cried desperately, her worry mounting with every passing second.

"I got a call. Jenny got in a car accident." He said it in a rush as if that would soften the blow.

-x-

Peyton was surprised she hadn't fainted. It had felt like she should have. Her knees had given out, but Nathan had caught her. She'd mumbled something desperate to the effect of _I can't do this again_ and Haley had been at her side then, wrapping her up in a protective hug and insisting that she wouldn't have to.

And she didn't. She rested her head in her hands as she sat in the waiting room of the hospital. Nathan had gone off in search of some water or coffee or something; Haley and Chris sat on either side of her, hovering worriedly but not obnoxiously. They didn't need to. Jenny was going to be okay. The doctors had said she was injured, but not seriously, and it had stopped feeling to Peyton like her heart was about to implode.

"Peyton!"

Her head shot up at the sound of his voice, and she was out of her chair and into his arms in about two seconds flat, her head buried into his chest. She let a few tears leak out of her eyes as she listened to the steady beat of his heart.

"She's going to be fine," she heard Haley say quietly from behind her, and Lucas relaxed, rubbing her back soothingly.

"It's okay," he murmured into her hair, kissing the shell of her ear.

She took a shaky breath and said, breathing against his neck, "Thank you for coming."

"Of course." He pulled back a bit, lifting his hands to push her hair back from her face and cup her cheeks. It was so obvious to him. Of course he was there. This was where he'd always wanted to be; with her, no matter what.

"We're going to go ask if you can see her yet," Haley said softly, dragging Chris after her so that Lucas and Peyton could have some privacy.

"You okay?" he murmured, looking right into her eyes.

"I'm scared," she admitted, leaning into his hands and closing her own green orbs. "I got so scared."

His thumb skimmed over her cheek, wiping away her tears. "She's going to be fine."

She opened her mouth to speak, but she didn't have the words. She settled on, "I'm so glad you're here," as she tucked herself into his arms, curling up against his chest and letting him protect her. She choked on a sob that morphed into laughter. "Always saving me." She shook her head, hair brushing against her chest. "Now I know how my dad felt, when he got that call after the school shooting. I swear my heart stopped."

Lucas made a disapproving sound as he kissed the crown of her head, insisting, "That's not allowed."

Her giggles sounded like they were water-logged. "Reality definitely decided to pay us a visit today. Can you still promise me that everything's going to be okay?"

He nodded, his chin bumping her forehead. "We'll figure it all out. The good…and the bad." He was overcome by the strange thought that it sounded like he was reciting wedding vows, and he pulled back, staring at her, almost in shock. "I'm going to be with you through everything. I _want_ to be," he told her, gently fingering a few stray strands of her curly hair. "Peyt…"

She searched his face as tear tracks dried on her cheeks. "What is it?"

"I want to marry you," he said.

And her jaw dropped.

-x-

"Ms. Sawyer?" a timid teenager asked, tentatively approaching them. "Sorry to interrupt."

"It's okay," she said disjointedly. Some part of her brain that was working on an automatic function of some sort forced the words from her mouth.

"I'm, um…I'm Jordan Lynd. Jenny's…friend. I was driving," he added, his voice trembling. "I'm really, really sorry."

Lucas' eyes flashed, surprising them all. "Well, that's not going to fix her broken bones, is it?" he snapped, and the kid's whole body appeared the shake.

"Hey," Peyton said harshly, managing to get back into her own mind again. She placed her hand lightly on Lucas' arm, contradicting her words. She appreciated his reaction, but it was unnecessary. "I'm sorry," she added to Jordan.

He held up his shaking hands. "Hey, they warned me that fathers get like that."

Her head was spinning, but she didn't bother contradicting him. "It's okay. It really is. I was a pretty reckless driver as a kid and I…I know it was an accident." She tried to smile but it was as though she couldn't feel her lips. "I'm glad to meet you, by the way. The circumstances are just a bit unfortunate." She gave him a sympathetic look. "Go home. Rest. I'll have Jenny call you, I promise."

"Thank you," he breathed, looking a little steadier on his feet. "And again I'm really, really sorry. I care about her. I'd never mean to hurt her, I wouldn't. And, um, the…the doctor said you can go see her now."

She turned to Lucas the moment he disappeared. Her newly-reacquired love looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She tried to bring things into focus. "I…you got divorced from your _wife_, the mother of your _child_, my _best friend_ – in complicated ways – only a _week_ ago. I haven't talked to you in twelve years. You still don't know a lot about what's happened to me in those years and…and vice versa. But, God, he thought you were her dad… But this is insane, you know that, don't you? You have to. We _just_…we've been together for a week. We've…this isn't…I can't…" She was having trouble forming sentences. Mercifully, Lucas cut her off.

He placed both his hands lightly on her upper arms. "Peyton, hey," he said soothingly. "Look at me. I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I thought that in the future, this would happen but not…not like this. You deserve better and it is _way_ too soon and I was…it was stupid. Everything you just said was right. Go see your daughter," he added encouragingly, releasing her. "Go. We'll pretend this never happened."

She nodded, turning to walk away from him, feeling a little robotic. She had almost reached Jenny's room when she stopped short, turning around. "Luke?" she called out to him. He was still standing there, watching her go.

_Yeah?_ he asked her with his eyes.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot nervously, ringing her hands in apprehension. "What if…what if I don't want to pretend?" A fresh tear slid down her cheek as she waited for his answer.

He still didn't speak, but she understood all his questions.

She glanced down, a tear dripping onto the floor. She couldn't find her voice, so she took a deep breath and mouthed her question through the threat of sobs, hoping and praying that he'd be able to understand.

"_Can I say yes?_"

His reaction was the automatic influx of joy. His eyes lit up and his grin spread across his face quickly. "Peyt…" he said warmly, shaking his head in amazement, trying to tell her that she didn't have to mean it, but he'd love it if she did.

She shook her head, laughing through her tears as she wiped her cheeks. She took a deep breath and nodded at him, smiling in disbelief as well. She held his gaze for another long moment before ducking into her daughter's room.

-x-

"Hey," she whispered tenderly as she approached Jenny, who was, thankfully, sitting up and perched on the side of a bed. "How's the girl with the broken ribs?"

"Bruised," Jenny protested, smiling guiltily as she played down any thoughts of serious injury. "Are you mad?"

"No," Peyton said instantly, shaking her head. "You scared the _hell_ out of me, but I'm not mad. I'm too relieved to see you in one piece."

"Are you…mad at Jordan?"

Peyton smiled fondly. "No anger directed at anyone, I promise." She paused. "What about you? Things were a mess this morning, I know."

"No anger directed at anyone," Jenny said slowly. "It's just…things are different. And different in more ways than…than I'm…maybe…ready for."

"Jenny…honey, I want you to talk to me about this. There are things that we need to discuss –"

Her daughter looked at her wearily. "Mom, I know. But I'm on three different pain killers and I'm tired and still…scared and I just…I don't want to do this now. Can we not do this now?" she asked desperately.

Peyton looked at her worriedly, leaning into to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Okay. Baby, it's okay. Not now."

-x-

Lucas was waiting for her even after ten o'clock in the evening, sitting alone on the front steps of his own house, reading a book by the beam cast by a flashlight.

"Hey," he said gently, setting his book aside as she joined him on the steps. He shrugged his sweater off instantly and wrapped it around her shoulders. "How is she?"

"I took her to Nathan and Haley's. She's got the best bed there, in her room with all her things. She said she was tired and she just wanted to be alone…but I doubt she'll go to sleep." She smiled knowingly but tiredly.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing," she said, sighing wearily. "I just know where to find my girl."

He let it go at that, not pressing it any further. "And what about _my_ girl? How are you doing?"

"I'm a mess," she laughed. "But kind of in a good way, if that makes any sense."

Lucas put his arm around her, pulling her close to him. "I'm not trying to ask you anything big right now, I know you've got a lot going on. I never should have said that in the first place, it just happened. I didn't really have much control over it, if you can believe that. I just need to know if you meant it. If we're really going to do this…?"

She grinned, blinking slowly. She leaned toward him until their noses brushes. "Baby," she said softly, her voice slow and filled with hints of sleep, "We were _always _going to do this."

She kissed him fiercely until there wasn't a single doubt left in his mind about the authenticity of her words.

-x-

Peyton walked slowly down the boardwalk toward beach, pulling Lucas' sweater, which smelled sweetly of him, tighter around her shoulders. When she reached the sand, she kicked off a pair of Jenny's flip-flops that she'd borrowed and cuffed her black jeans. She continued on her way, her feet sinking softly into the slowly cooling grains of sand as she approached her daughter, who sat gazing at the waves with a sense of solitary calm about her.

Jenny made no comment when Peyton gently kicked her feet out and plunked down beside her. Peyton reached out and rubbed Jenny's bruised arm lightly. "Hey, you. How're those limbs of yours?" she asked, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the crashing surf.

Jenny didn't bother answering the question, but that didn't matter. "I'm pretty predictable, huh? Moody teenage girl staring at the ocean in the middle of the night."

Peyton smiled fondly as she tucked the long, tangled strands of blonde hair that hid her daughter's face behind her ear. "Meh, I can't judge. I did it too."

Swallowing audibly, Jenny bit down hard on her lower lip. "It's just hard, you know?" she said, her voice cracking as she hesitantly met her mother's eyes. "This summer has just been hard."

"I know," Peyton agreed kindly.

"When Chris Keller asked me if I was scared at the beginning of summer, I was. I wasn't sure that I was ready to fully commit to music the way I was supposed to with this whole thing. I wanted to, but I didn't know if I could. Little did I know…that was the easy part."

"I'm sorry, honey. I know that I've said it so many times, and I know that it's not always the answer you're looking for…but I'll keep saying it until you can trust me on it, until you can believe me."

Jenny made a small noise that could have been classified as a sob. "It's just hard," she repeated, her voice raw.

"I know," Peyton responded patiently. "Sweetie, I know. You never could have predicted that music would be the easy part of all of this."

"It's scary to know that everything I thought was real isn't anymore. I mean, with Jordan…I'm happy, Mom. It's good. It's really good. But it seems like only the new things in my life make sense. And that's not what I want."

Peyton sighed, immediately understanding the deeper meaning in her daughter's words. "Honey, that's the thing…everything is still real. You just know more now."

"I don't exactly feel well-informed. I feel…lost," Jenny admitted.

"This is never how I wanted anything to happen, Jen," Peyton told her quietly, hoping that Jenny could understand just how much she meant her words. "I have regrets about everything, so many, but in the end…I feel found," she shrugged, "Stupid and corny as that may sound, babe, it's true…but I could never be as whole as I feel right now if I didn't have you. That is one truth that never has and never will change."

Jenny's body constricted in another sob, but she was still rigid; Peyton knew that she couldn't touch her yet or the whole conversation would go to waste. She took a deep breath, pushing past the instincts that were screaming at her to comfort her child. "Jenny, I need you to know some other things that will always be true, okay?" At Jenny's small nod, she continued, "I loved your dad. I did, Jen, I loved him so much. With you and Jake…I found safety and _so much_ happiness. I never want you to think that I didn't love him just because Lucas was always…there, in the background. It was _not _always me and Lucas. Lucas had Brooke for a long time, and for years, honey, it was Jake and I and nothing could have gotten in the way of it. I was never biding time with Jake. I would have loved him forever, Jenny, I _could_ have. Okay?"

Jenny nodded again. She pulled her knees tight to her chest.

"I'm happy right now, kiddo, I am. Lucas means a lot to me, and I love him like…God, I can't even describe it to you, Jen. Lucas knows me better than anyone and he is there for me in all the ways I could ever need him to be, and my heart just takes _off_ when he even looks at me. He's as good to me as Jake was, and I am so lucky to have found that twice."

"That's good," Jenny agreed in a very small voice, granting her mother her happiness.

"Yeah…it is. It's something I want for you someday, too. I want _everything_ for you, Jenny, because that's how much I love you. I love you more than I could ever describe, too. I love you so much it _hurts_," she said honestly, her breath catching in her throats as she felt it. "Luke adored you when you were a baby, Jen, he really did. And he knows what it's like to go through parental drama, trust me on that. He's a great father. He can be anything that you want him to be – you set the terms of your relationship. Nothing is going to be awkward, honey, and I promise you that if it is, then I'll make whatever changes I need to for you."

Her daughter gave her an I-want-to-believe-you look. Peyton was making progress, but she wasn't there yet. She ran her fingers through Jenny's hair one more time. "I'm going to tell you something I never thought I'd tell you, okay? I know you think I have a hell of a lot of secrets, but this one has always been too important to me to share with anyone."

Jenny nodded again.

Peyton swallowed hard. "Before your dad's accident…we were trying for a baby. I had these visions in my head of a baby boy, a completion of our already amazing little family. You were such a sweet little girl that I knew you'd make the perfect big sister, and Jake was always the most spectacular dad. I loved you so much that I wanted to feel that twice-over, to have two kids. We were so excited about it.

"So when Jake died, I thought…that maybe I'd get pregnant. I hoped that maybe, Jake had left me with a part of him. I wasn't exactly dying to go through pregnancy and labour and raising two little kids by myself…but I wasn't thinking that way. I was grieving because I'd lost the man I loved.

"I wasn't pregnant though, as I'm sure you've noticed by now," she added teasingly, grasping desperately at levity. "When I got my period, a little less than two weeks after the funeral, I broke down again because it was like my last chance at keeping some of Jake with me was gone. I'm so stupid sometimes, Jen, that I just push people away and tell them I'm fine when I'm not. That's what I'd done that day, and you and I were alone in that apartment in Savannah. And I just sat there, in the bathtub, crying for what felt like hours." She swallowed against the lump in her throat and smiled. "And then you opened the door, and you peeked in, and you looked so sad and sweet that it broke my heart all over again. You came in, and shut the door behind you, leaving the ringing phone and all the flowers and the sympathy casseroles – the whole world – behind. And you got into the bathtub with me, laid down next to me, and just hugged me. And _bam_, my universe snapped back into focus and I realized that I really was the biggest idiot ever."

She looked at Jenny seriously to enforce her following words. "I didn't need a baby. Jake had already left me with the most important part of himself, and it was more than I ever could have asked for."

"Me," Jenny sniffled, her whisper barely audible.

"You," Peyton agreed just as softly with a nod. "Lucas is the great romantic love of my life, but you are my world. Nothing will ever change how I felt about your dad, baby, and _nothing_ can _ever _change the way I feel about you. You're everything, Jenny, and that feeling's never going anywhere."

Jenny fully started to cry, tears running down her cheeks as her shoulders shook. Peyton physically ached to hold her, but she knew she had to wait, just a little longer. She studied Jenny sadly, patiently waiting for her sobs to quiet. When she calmed a little, she reached out to stroke Jenny's hair again, and Jenny turned abruptly to face her.

"Mom…I trust you. I believe you. I understand. I want you…to be happy. If you love Lucas…then it's good. I wouldn't want to take that from you. I would want for you to…find forever with him."

"Thank you, sweetheart…that means everything." Her daughter's opinion was the one that mattered most. It was the go-ahead to confirm the impulsive but perfect decision she'd made that day. Peyton held her breath as she awaited Jenny's next words.

Jenny's tears overflowed again, slipping down her sun-freckled cheeks. "And I love you."

Peyton's heart melted. "My baby girl," she said softly. She slipped out of Lucas' sweater with remarkable stealth and draped it around Jenny before pulling her into a tight hug – while still managing to watch out for her bruised-not-broken ribs – and planting several kisses on her daughter's forehead and cheeks. "I love you too."


	29. Canon

**A/N:** No classes for me today, and so I spoil you. :) Feedback is always appreciated.

Canon:a musical device that declares a set theme in a piece, it is always repeated, and often works as both a beginning and an ending

Peyton sighed melodramatically as she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. "I look _wrong_," she grumbled, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

"You look _perfect_," Lucas assured her.

She glared. She didn't want him to lie to her. "I do _not_," she growled back.

"Peyton. Honey," he added for good measure when her eyes flashed. "You do realize that you've known Brooke since you were four years old, right?"

"I know," she sighed. "It just…it feels like I'm meeting her all over again. In a different context. And I look…too…_casual_."

Lucas looked her over, took in the black shorts and the deep red shirt which clung to her body in all the right places. He examined the white sweater she'd thrown on and the messy bun her hair was in. "You look perfect," he repeated, shrugging.

"You're saying that because you love me!" she shouted as though it were an accusation of the worst kind, throwing her sweater aside. She buried her face in her hands. "I mean…" She took a deep breath, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…to yell at you."

He grinned knowingly but gently. He knew that wasn't what she was flustered about or what she was apologizing for. "You're too cute."

She turned away from him. "It's not funny."

Lucas closed the distance between them in three easy steps. "Hey," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

Peyton rolled her eyes at her own behaviour. "No, I'm sorry."

"Not that," he contradicted her.

"Then what?" she replied, arching her eyebrows, even though she knew.

"I've waited for you for…so, so long. It still feels surreal that we're here, together. And these past weeks of just you and me have been…_wow_," he said simply, leering for a split second though his eyes remained earnest. "Peyton, I asked you to marry me in the hallway of a hospital and you said _yes_." He lifted one eyebrow. "And you still think it's not official? You want to hear me say it?"

She rolled her eyes again. She was being a total girl, and it was unnecessary but… "Yeah," she whispered, looking at him with vulnerable eyes. "I think I need to."

His hands skimmed up her arms, making her shiver, and came to rest against her cheeks. "You look beautiful today. You know I love to see you in shorts."

"Luke," she protested softly.

"I'm serious. You do. You look perfect. Brooke's not a monster – we've both talked this out with her already. Miranda will adore you and it's pretty easy to adore her back." He leaned into kiss her and it felt like every pore in her body responded to his. He smiled down at her, his eyes half-closed. "And _I love you_."

-x-

"Daddy!" Miranda called out joyfully as she rushed toward Lucas. She had complete faith in him, that he would catch her and sweep her up into his secure embrace, which he did.

"Hey, princess," he replied with a grin, kissing both her cheeks. "How's the Big Apple?"

"Good," she chirped. "But I missed you."

"She definitely did," Brooke agreed softly, setting her daughter's suitcases down. "Hey," she added as an afterthought.

"Hey," he replied, matching her tone. "How are you?"

"Fine," she said, nodding amiably. "And how…" She trailed off, eyeing Peyton as her old friend walked down the stairs in the house _Brooke_ had raised her daughter in. "I see you're good," she said decisively.

"Hey," Peyton said nervously, keeping a tactful distant away from Lucas as they faced his ex-wife and her ex-friend. She sighed. "It's good to see you."

Brooke laughed at the desperate way she spoke, breaking up some of the tension. She smiled softly. "You, too, P. Sawyer. Hey, Miranda, this is Peyton. Remember, I told you about her?"

Miranda peered over her father's shoulder. "Daddy's new friend."

Peyton grinned, meeting the little girl's eyes. She was such a mini-Brooke, with touches of Lucas thrown in. "And your new friend, too, if that's okay…?"

Miranda took a moment to assess her. "Mommy says you can draw almost anything."

The blonde shot Brooke a look of thanks before replying, "I try to."

The little girl squirmed, and Lucas set her down willingly. She walked over to Peyton, her guard falling. Peyton crouched down so that they were eye level, and her heart caught in her throat as Miranda extended her hand. "Will you teach me?"

Peyton grinned back. "I'd love to, honey. We'll go upstairs, okay? Your mommy and daddy want to talk."

"I can show you my dolls!" Miranda declared excitedly as they headed to the stairs. Peyton glanced over her shoulder to throw Lucas a smile of relief. He winked in return.

-x-

"_So_," Brooke said as she flopped down in her favourite chair. "What's up with you two? Have you named your future children, or just picked out the location for your wedding?"

Lucas glanced up at her as though caught and her eyebrows flew upward.

"Oh, my God…you're _actually_ getting married?" She sat back and took a deep breath, trying to absorb it all. "Somehow," she mused aloud, "I'm not surprised."

"I didn't really…propose, or anything. It's not like it's going to happen soon. I mean, I don't have…a ring…or anything. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision…"

"Spur of the moment?" Brooke laughed, looking at him in a way that was almost sympathetic. "Lucas, you've been waiting years to ask her that question. You probably dreamed of it before she'd ever even spoken to her."

"That's not true," he protested bashfully.

"Luke. Our marriage is over. Be honest with me. I know that's the truth." She sighed. "If you want to marry her, and she wants to marry you…that's what should happen." Attempting a smile, she continued, "Get Haley to help you pick a ring. I would but I…I can't." She stood up, nodding toward the ceiling. "I'll make sure that Peyton's taken care of."

"Hey," he protested. "I mean, Brooke, thank you so much, but…sit down. Tell me how your trip was."

She groaned, pressing her fingers against her eyes as she sat down again, as if she was trying to ward off a headache. She smiled at him, all bittersweet fondness. "Dammit, I was so close to being bitter."

He grinned back, shrugging, "Sorry."

Brooke crossed her legs and relaxed into her chair. "You're going to marry her and start the life that both of you were always supposed to have, and I'm going to help it all happen. And then I'm going to find _my_ Lucas. The real one," she added with a smirk.

"You're replacing me?" he asked as if she'd wounded him deeply.

"Honey," she said gently, a bit condescendingly, as she smiled seriously. "You were never mine."

-x-

"Are you sure about this?" Peyton asked nervously as Brooke placed stacks of wedding books in front of her.

"About getting closure and seeing two people I love, however grudgingly, be with each other?" Brooke smirked, all faux sweetness. "Yeah. Come to think of it, I _am_ sure."

Peyton rolled her eyes. She was perched on a stool in front of the counter in the currently-closed Tree Hill branch of Clothes over Bro's while Brooke bustled around behind the counter in search of wedding paraphernalia.

"I feel like I've been waiting this for a long time," Brooke admitted as she flipped a book open and tapped a page full of example invitations. "And now that it's happening, it's kind of relief. One _never-ending_ chapter, the saga of Lucas and Peyton, finally getting its _and they all lived happily ever after_." She grinned, producing a bottle of champagne, popping the cork, and pouring Peyton a glass in one expertly smooth movement. "Besides, we've got to get a move on. You obviously need me for this, and I'm heading back to NY tomorrow for another week. Drink and look," she ordered before disappearing into the back room.

Peyton's head was spinning as she gazed down at the formally-worded invitations. Things were falling into place for her in ways she hadn't imagined. She'd never felt so confused and yet settled ever before, not even in the earlier days of her time with Jake. Brooke was at least accepting her, if not fully forgiving her. She'd settled things with Jenny. Haley and Nathan had given their blessings. Miranda loved that she could draw unicorns with someone who could actually sketch a horse. Peyton was both dizzy and grounded at once; falling fast into a love that had been waiting for her.

"Mmkay, P. Sawyer," Brooke said authoritatively as she walked back into the room. "What're you thinking for the big day?" She was carrying several bolts of off-white fabric, a couple bundles of rolled-up sketches, and had a pencil tucked behind her ear. She somehow looked sweet, businesslike, and all sexy-librarian at the same time.

Peyton set aside the invitation formats she'd been checking out, the laciest of which had, surprisingly, caught her attention. "Hey, B., listen…I love you to death for being so on board, but I really don't want you to feel like you have to be."

Brooke huffed and glanced skyward as though asking the heavens for patience with Peyton's silliness. "You listen to me, fake Blondie," she ordered. "Do you remember high school?"

"You mean the first time I was the biggest bitch in the world and clandestinely hooked up with the guy you loved and never deserved your forgiveness?" she questioned. She always felt that she'd loved Lucas first, and that Brooke should have let them have a little more time, but she felt such humility around Brooke's current behaviour, which was somehow both selfish and selfless all at once.

Her friend rolled her eyes as she sat down the bolts. "_No_, I mean when you and Nathan broke up and he and Haley got really serious, really fast."

"Of course."

"Okay, well, do you remember how Haley used to come to you for advice? And you supported their relationship? And encouraged it, because you knew it was for the best?"

Peyton shook her head. "That was different. Nathan and I never had anything close to what he and Hales do."

"Yeah. And Luke and I, as much as I hate to admit it, never had anything close to what you do with him." She took a deep breath. "You let me have him, P. You could have come back and he eventually would have found within himself that part of you that loves you so fucking much that it's nearly impossible…but you didn't. You picked Jake and you stayed away and gave your heart to someone else because you thought it would be best for you and me. And it was. Those were good years. But it was only a matter of time, and leave it to Chris Keller to put the wheels in motion." She smiled bravely, tears glimmering in her eyes. "You are, however, the biggest bitch in the world because you keep _questioning_ me on it. Stop it before I change my mind," she chuckled weakly.

Peyton placed a hand over hers. "I love you, Brooke," she said simply, her heart in her voice. "And I never meant to hurt you even though I really do love him."

Brooke shot her an honest grin, flipping her hand over to interlock their fingers as she squeezed back. "I know you do. Weren't you listening? _You proved it_."

-x-

"Hey, you."

Peyton's eyes fluttered open as she felt the mattress sink under Lucas' weight as he joined her. "Hey," she mumbled back sleepily, curling into his chest. His arms encircled her instantly and she sighed blissfully. "Is Mira asleep?" she asked, tracing idle patterns against his chest.

"Yeah. Only after talking about you for a good hour. You've really got her under your spell."

"You think?" she asked, preening proudly.

"Hell yeah. She thinks you're way more fun than me."

"Aw." She giggled at his wounded expression. Yawning, she continued, "She's so cute, Luke. You should be proud."

"I am," he acknowledged, looking at her in amusement. "Brooke really tired you out, didn't she?"

"Oh, God…_yes_. She was a freaking…tornado…of invitations and locations and dress materials and…it was ridiculous."

"Well, she likes to go all-out."

"Mm. All-out isn't exactly the way I envisioned our wedding," she admitted, smiling idiotically at the sound of those words; _our wedding_.

He chuckled. "We'll figure it out."

Peyton nodded. Lately, it seemed like that was true. "Yeah," she said with a contented sigh.

"Hey…Peyt?"

"Hmm?" she murmured as she began to drift off.

"Do you think I can spend some time with Jenny? Playing basketball, or whatever she'd be comfortable with? I don't think I have any chance of winning her over the way you did Mira…but I want to try," he joked.

She cupped his chin in her hand, keeping her eyes closed. She pulled him in for a kiss; she knew his body only by feel. She didn't need anything more.

"What's that for?" he whispered against her lips.

"Nothing," she mumbled back, opening her eyes one last time before she gave into sleep. "It's just…I love you, too."

-x-

"Nick," Haley said patiently, gently ruffling the hair of her most stubborn child, "Honey, sweetie, my angel boy…" she cooed hopefully. "How about we watch something else, huh? Like _The Lion King_. You _love_ that movie, right?"

"No! No, no, no!" Nick cried petulantly. "I wanna watch my _favourite _movie."

Peyton smiled, shrugging helplessly at Haley's desperate, pleading look. It wasn't like she knew where the movie was, and besides, she was too comfortable to get up. Her small, strangely merged family was settled on one of the couches. Lucas sat on her right, his arm draped lightly around her shoulders, his fingers pressing warmly into the flesh of her shoulder. Jenny sat on her left, and Peyton had gently intertwined their arms when they'd first sat down. Her right arm was resting on Miranda's back; the little girl was snuggled contentedly into her lap, Peyton's chin resting atop her head. Miranda had taken to her so well that Peyton was almost in awe of it. Nathan had joked that it must be Luke's genes coming to the surface.

They were at the Scott household, spending the afternoon together after having said goodbye to Brooke. They were, as Nathan had put it, 'celebrating the revamped Scott family'. Of course, with four emotionally and physically tired adults and a bunch of kids, that meant watching a movie as a collective group. They'd probably all doze off collectively as well.

On the floor, Haley was kneeling next to Nick as they sorted through a collection of mislabeled videotapes. Nathan was standing, his upper body practically buried in a cupboard as he searched for more. On the other couch, Jamie was playing with Sebastian, who sat in his lap, and Noah was dozing, his little head on a pillow, despite his earlier insistence that he was _not sleepy_.

"Nathan, why the H-E-L-L did we not buy this F-U-C-K-I-N-G movie on DVD?" Haley hissed at her husband, at the end of her rope as she sorted through countless old basketball tapes.

"Um, Mom?" Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows as he grinned. "You realize that I can spell both those words, right?"

Haley winced. "Sorry, baby…I keep forgetting how old you are now," she sighed, getting a little misty-eyed.

"Aw, Mom," Jamie grimaced, embarrassed. He glanced quickly over at Jenny. "Not now."

Nathan gave Haley's shoulder a squeeze and sat down on the floor next to his son. "Okay, bud, this is all we've got, but these don't have labels on them."

Nick critically eyed the six tapes his father had just placed on the floor, adding them to the growing collection that Haley was frantically trying to organize. He placed his index finger on one of them and said, with certainty: "_That's _it."

"Buddy, how do you know that?"

"Because it's my _favourite_," Nick insisted as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, Nate," Lucas inputted, laughter in his voice. Peyton could feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke. "It's his _favourite_."

Nick beamed. "Listen to Uncle Luke!"

Nathan shot Lucas a glare. "Uncle Luke's being a big…_goof_," he said, a threat in his voice.

Miranda giggled sweetly and Peyton felt a wave of thankfulness for how good it felt to be where she was and with the people she had loved and was learning to love. Lucas reached over to brush Miranda's hair out of her face, and Peyton felt his lips touch her forehead. She turned to him and smiled.

"Nick, bud, I'm sorry, but I think this tape is actually a lot older than you."

"No," he replied stubbornly. "That is _my movie_."

Haley sighed as she attempted to read what was scribbled on the label of another movie. "Just put it in, babe," she told her husband distractedly.

Nick watched the television screen anxiously, but instead of opening credits, they saw fuzz. His face fell in disappoint. "I thought that was it."

"Aw, sweetie," Haley crooned. "It's okay, it's –"

She stopped speaking when actual tape began to play, shakily recorded by a handheld camera, and Nick cried happily, "It's Daddy!"

And indeed it was. Nathan, fourteen years old, showing off as he shot baskets in the driveway of his expensive house. Peyton grinned. "Hey, Jenny, he's as old as you are," she said, nodding toward the Nathan that dunked a ball on the TV. She'd spent several days of her life in Nathan's driveway; the sight was not unfamiliar to her.

Jenny assessed the picture and nodded her approval. "Looking hot, Uncle Nate," she teased.

"Hey," Haley laughed. "That's _my_ man."

All of a sudden, fourteen-year-old Peyton, her hair longer and curlier and her eyes just as troubled as they'd ever been, but lit up with light, appeared on screen next to him. She smirked at the camera and declared fondly, her voice playful, "That's my baby," before pulling Nathan into a kiss, grabbing his chin.

Jenny laughed. "What were you saying, Aunt Haley?"

Lucas' fingers toyed with the curls that hit Peyton's upper back and she shot him a sheepish smile before letting her gaze drift over to Nathan. He grinned back. Haley, next to him, gazed at the couple on screen with a tolerant smile on her face, well aware that the past was the past. In spite of their constant bitching, Nathan and Peyton had had their sweet moments. Peyton was glad at least one had been caught on film.

Noah, who'd woken up from his nap, asked sleepily, "Daddy, why're you kissing Aunt Peyton?" His bleary eyes were troubled as he stared at them.

"Before I dated your mom I dated Peyton," Nathan said, offering the simplest explanation he could.

"But now you only kiss Mommy, right?" the little boy questioned seriously, and Peyton smiled softly at how much it mattered to him.

"Of course, buddy. Your mom's the love of my life," Nathan said, shooting Haley a warm smile that she returned wholeheartedly.

"Promise?" Noah demanded insistently.

"Yeah, kiddo. Of course."

Haley rested her head on his shoulder. "Always and forever," she said softly, but Peyton heard her words and they brought an even brighter smile to her lips, especially with Lucas' hand still tangled in her hair. It actually seemed like a possibility for her own life.

"Don't worry, baby," she told Noah to reassure him. "I don't want your daddy anymore anyway." She quirked her eyebrows and was happy when he laughed, assured of the stability of his parents' relationship.

"Gets me right here, Sawyer," Nathan grouched, placing a hand over her heart.

"Yeah?" she asked skeptically, smirking mischievously. "Pretty sure you and I only got each other a little further south, Nate."

"Mom!" Jenny cried, squirming.

"Oh, wow," said Lucas, grimacing as he obviously tried to block out the mental picture.

"My kids are here!" Haley protested laughingly, and Peyton grinned back at her.

But her words and their connotation were nothing compared to what appeared on the screen eighteen seconds later. All of sudden, in high-definition picture on Nathan's prized big screen, Peyton saw herself engaged in serious foreplay with her high school boyfriend.

No one in the room said a word. Haley's jaw dropped lower than Peyton would have thought her facial structure would allow. Nathan's skin turned a colour somewhere between red and purple. Lucas' hand stilled in her hair. Jenny's eyebrows shot up high and froze there; Jamie looked traumatized, and the twins and the baby stared at the TV in utter confusion – but no one said a word. Peyton slipped her hand out from where her arm was loosely entwined with her daughter's to clap it over her mouth in horror.

She was wearing very little, shorts that exposed most of her legs and a purple bra; Nathan, only his boxers. Her body was mercifully covered by Nathan's, but one of her long legs hooked around his waist was obvious to the audience.

It was the fifteen-year-olds on screen who finally broke the silence, Peyton's purr of, "Mm, _Na_than," followed by Nathan's husky reply that was something indiscernible.

That woke everyone up as Haley screamed, "_Oh my God!"_ and slapped a hand over Nick's eyes, ordering, "Noah, eyes closed, _now_. Jamie, you too, or I swear to God, no allowance for a month."

Peyton instinctively shielded Miranda's eyes, too, as Haley cried, "Turn it _off_!"

Nathan fumbled hastily with the remote, pressing several buttons until finally, the screen went black and they all wilted a little with relief – but not much.

"You made _sex tapes_?" Haley demanded incredulously.

Nathan cowered a little, shrugging. It was probably in his best interest not to speak at the moment.

"Whoa," Lucas muttered next to Peyton, and she moved the hand that had been covering Mira's eyes to rest gently on his knee.

"_Ew_, Mom," Jenny said, wincing in disgust.

Peyton snapped in mom-mode for a moment, automatically. "Thanks, honey," she said sarcastically, and then gave her teenager a serious look. "_Never_ do that." Then, finally, she met her ex-boyfriend's eyes, extending her arm as she pointed an accusing finger. "You promised me you deleted those!"

"Those, plural, as in _more than one_?" Haley stared at them both.

"I _thought_ I got rid of them," he said weakly.

Peyton bit down on her lower lip as they just looked at each other, unsure of what else to do. Then, unbidden, a snicker slipped through her lips. Haley gaped at her, and that did her in. She started to laugh; the soul-shaking kind of laughter that would make her stomach hurt after a while, but would still feel so good. She was embarrassed, yes, but it was in the past and so old and this was just such an _odd_ moment for it to come back to haunt them, because…it didn't really matter. Nathan and Haley had their life. She and Lucas were starting theirs. It was an old, forgotten – albeit kind of hot – tape. It was another artifact of times that had passed, reminding her once more how different and how much better things were about to be.

Nathan joined in her laughter, chuckling ashamedly and trying to hide it. "Shut _up_!" Haley barked at him, but a giggle escaped her, too, and that was all it took to get Lucas going. Before Peyton knew it, they were all cracking up, while the kids looked at them like they were insane. Through her laughter, Haley gasped out, "Are you crazy?" and Peyton could only shrug happily, calming her own giggling.

"This is the way it's supposed to be, right?" she asked, glancing back and forth between Nathan and Haley. She locked eyes with Nathan for a moment. "So messed up." He grinned back at her, nodding his agreement. She turned, placing a hand on Lucas' cheek and forcing him to look her in the eye, adding quietly, "But so perfect."

Luke placed his hand gently over hers and leaned forward for a gentle, sincere kiss that was perfectly chaste. "Yeah," he agreed.

Miranda peered up at them both with a pretty little curious smile on her adorable face, and Haley had positively melted, murmuring a soft, "Awww." Then she blinked and her face fell back in a skeptical, scandalized smile. "Sex tapes, _really_?"


	30. Sempre

Sempre: an Italian term of direction meaning "always"

Peyton padded into the kitchen of Lucas' house in her bare feet, wearing a pair of pyjama pants and a Jimmy Eat World t-shirt that was too big. She poured herself a glass of water and took a couple sips as she meandered into the living room.

Lucas was passed out on the couch, his long body squished uncomfortably into its confines. His pillow had fallen onto the floor; he'd undoubtedly have some serious neck pain when he woke up. She felt bad for him for a split second and then decided not to. Instead, she tilted her glass, splashing cold water all over his face.

"Jesus!" he cried as he awoke, sitting up and shaking the water off. His eyes were wide and shocked as he massaged his neck, wincing. "What the hell did you do that for?" he growled. "You already made me sleep on the couch!"

"You deserved it," she said simply, turning around and pacing back into the kitchen to get some more water.

He followed her without missing a beat, still kneading his fingers into his sore neck. "This is getting ridiculous, Peyton."

"No, it's not," she said simply as she turned on the tap.

"Look…" He softened his tone, leaning against the counter as he stood beside her. "I said it last night and I'll say it again: I'm sorry."

"You should be." She twisted the tap closed until it squeaked in protest of the force she was applying. "I can't _believe_ you said that to me."

"I was…I was trying to be honest!" he spluttered. "Isn't that important in relationships?" he asked pointedly.

"To a certain _degree_, Lucas! Not, _sorry babe, I can't sleep with you, because I have this imagine of you and my _brother_ in my head_!"

"Well!" he cried helplessly. "It was…honest." He tried to suppress his smile. "Really, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Her eyes widened and she grabbed a dishtowel to throw at him. "You won't get a _chance_ for it to happen again!"

Jenny tapped on the sliding door that led directly into the kitchen at that moment, interrupting their argument. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, greeting, "Hey. I'm glad to see you guys…_clothed_."

Peyton rolled her eyes fondly and walked over to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Hey, Jenny Lynn. You're on time," she observed, impressed.

"That's what happens when you live with Haley. You can't not be punctual."

Lucas chuckled. "True that. You ready to hit the court, kiddo?"

Jenny nodded eagerly. "I'm having trouble writing my song. Haley said that doing something I love will probably help."

Lucas grinned knowingly. "She's a smart woman. Now, let's get out of here, your mom's in a crazy mood," he said conspiratorially.

"Hey!" Peyton cried indignantly, glaring at him.

He smiled cheekily in return, leaning in close to whisper in her ear so that Jenny couldn't hear. "I love you, and I _always_ want you."

A pleasant shiver ran down her spine as all her anger melted away. She kissed him quickly, nipping at his lips. "Back atcha," she murmured.

Jenny shook her head, already halfway out the door. "I don't even want to know…" she muttered.

Peyton grinned, kissing Lucas' shoulder. "Have fun. Watch those ribs, Jenny," she called to her daughter.

His hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll be fine."

When he read her mind so easily and said things so perfect, she was reminded of how all the heartache and doubt, the years of hanging on to her love for him, keeping a place for him in her heart…it had been worth it.

She wrapped her arms around. "I know you will."

-x-

"Score!" Jenny cheered proudly, catching her rebound and balancing the ball against her hip. She smiled. "So, did you let me win, or do you really suck that bad?"

"Hey," Lucas protested laughingly. Her attitude was such a reflection of Peyton's that it caused a natural rush of affection for this teenaged girl to run through him. That, combined with the fact that he could remember her as a sweet little baby, made for an easy relationship on his part. "I'm having an off-day."

"_Sure_ you are," she giggled, tossing him the basketball, which he caught easily. "This was fun. Thanks."

"Sure, Jen," he said, smiling. "Anytime."

"But…we both know the real reason you brought me here today – other than so that I could kick your butt – was so that you could ask me how I feel about it. You and my mom," she clarified.

He smiled curved into a smirk. She'd caught him. "You're a hard girl to fool, Jenny Jagielski."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Your daughter's a lot younger than me."

Lucas sat down in the middle of the river court, folding his legs underneath him. "Come and talk to me for a minute," he requested.

She obliged, joining him, sitting crossed-legged with her chin resting in her hands. "You want to know how I feel about this?"

"Yeah. I would like to know. This isn't just about Peyton and I. There are a lot of other people involved, and you might just be the most important out of all those people."

She tilted her head to the side. "That's good to hear, I've got to admit."

"I really want to make you comfortable with this, Jenny. It's weird, because I can remember you so much as a baby, and I see _so_ much of Peyton's influence in you, but I don't really know you that well. And I want to. If that's cool."

She nodded, and when she spoke she was referring to everything: "I'm cool with it."

-x-

"Hey." Jenny crossed the room and flopped down on the bed with Peyton, her head at the foot of the bed, her feet on the pillow.

"Hey, sweetie," Peyton replied, wincing playfully when Jenny's feet got too close to her face. "How'd it go with Luke?"

"Good. I won."

"Yeah?"

She laughed at her mother's eagerly searching tone. "I like him, Mom. I promise. I think this is…good." She stared up at the ceiling, wrinkling her nose. "What are you _doing_?"

Peyton rolled her eyes, looking up at the magazine cut-outs plastered above them. "Brooke's idea," she sighed. "She says that if I look at them right before I sleep, I'll dream about my perfect wedding and know what I want."

"That's crazy."

"I agree. But she's my friend."

Jenny sat up a bit, leaning back against her elbows. "But you haven't even been sleeping here. You've practically moved in with Lucas."

"Brooke doesn't know that. And she doesn't need to, not yet," Peyton added pointedly, shooting her daughter a warning look as she sat up as well, mimicking Jenny's position.

"Ah, right, 'cause you stole her man."

With an indignant look, Peyton smacked her daughter's calf lightly. "I like to think that he came willingly, thank you very much."

Jenny bit her lower lip. "You're really getting married."

She smiled. "Yeah, baby, I am."

"Are you going to take his last name?"

Peyton would have been lying if she said she hadn't considered it. "Yeah, honey, I…I think I am."

Jenny tried it out: "Peyton Elizabeth Scott." Her mother bit back a grin at the sound of his last name paired with those she'd carried all her life, and Jenny smiled, happy for her mother's happiness. "Hey, um, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you ever take Dad's last name?"

Peyton took a moment to consider. "Jenny, honey, you know that…Lucas is my soulmate. He means the world to me, and I am incredibly…_lucky_, to get to be with him for the rest of our lives, especially considering all that we've been through. I've just known him for so long…and he has always been _my_ boy, I guess…in a way I've always known what he means to you also know that I loved you dad, I really did. I just…Jake and I were so _young_. I wasn't ready to give up my…I don't know, I guess I viewed it as my independence. And at the time, my last name felt like I really important connection to my mom, one I wasn't willing to let go of. Does that make sense?"

Jenny nodded.

"Listen, babe, while we're talking about all of this…there's something I want to discuss with you. Lucas and I, we've been talking, and…it's _entirely_ up to you, but I know that he would love to adopt you."

"_Adopt_ me?"

"No pressure," Peyton hurriedly assured her. "You can take as long as you want to think about it, and we will both completely understand if your answer is no."

"Wow…" Jenny murmured.

"Take your time," Peyton repeated, carefully watching emotions dance across her daughter's face.

"Does that mean…that I would have to change my last name, too?"

"You don't _have_ to do anything. It's all up to you."

"What do _you_ think?"

Peyton sighed, sitting up fully. Her daughter followed her lead until they were sitting crossed-legged, basically facing each other as they sat in the middle of the bed. "Promise me you won't let me opinion influence you."

Jenny nodded.

"I would love it if Luke adopted you. It would mean the world to me. But if you decide _not_ to go through with it, it doesn't mean we're any less of a family."

"I think…maybe…that would be good."

Peyton reached out, grasping her daughter's hand and smiling softly. "And in regards to your name…I think it should stay as is. Jake will always be your dad. Besides, it's a great musician name, with alliteration and confusing spelling. Jenny Jagielski. Memorable name for a memorable girl."

Jenny's lips curved upward. "You really believe in all that stuff, don't you?"

"In alliteration?" Peyton laughed, confused.

"No, in…in having a soulmate. In having your other half out there, just waiting to be found."

"Yeah. Yeah, baby, I really do. I know it. I can feel it."

She looked particularly young and vulnerable as she bit her lower lip and whispered, "But what if you never _find_ that person?"

Peyton smiled fondly, tugging her daughter's hand a little closer and leaning in. "Jenny Jagielski," she said gently, "those boys don't stand a chance."

-x-

Lucas walked up the driveway of Nathan and Haley's house, frowning in confusion as he spotted a lumpy garbage bag tossed to the side. "Hey, bro!" he called to Nathan, who was nearby, shooting hoops. "What's with…" He nodded toward the bag.

Nathan grinned abashedly. "Haley kind of destroyed our entire video tape collection this morning."

He laughed. "Can't say that I blame her."

"You're good, right? You and Peyton. After…that," he said delicately.

Lucas chuckled, thinking back to their earlier fight. "Yeah, we're good…now."

His brother smirked knowingly. "Good. So…what's up?"

He smiled. "I want you to come somewhere with me. Are you free right now?"

Nathan looked puzzled but willing. "Yeah, I am. Okay…let's go, man."

-x-

Peyton sighed as she slowly came to a stop, parallel parking with ease. While most of her classmates had struggled with this particular task in Driver's Ed, she'd always been good at it. She took a moment to breathe, both hands still resting on the steering wheel.

She'd dropped Jenny off at Haley's and left a note for Lucas. There was nowhere else she needed to be. She was a little afraid, and a little reluctant, and a little heartbroken, but she knew that this was where she needed to be. With another sigh, she picked up the flowers she'd left on the passenger seat and got out of her car.

The cemetery was quiet, though that really shouldn't have surprised her. No one else was around. She walked slowly, trying not to disturb the peace, weaving in and out of the maze of headstones until she found the grave she was looking for. She placed the flowers gently in front of in and slowly sat down in the grass.

"Hey, you," she whispered, reaching out to touch the stone for a moment. "I'm sorry I…I haven't been here in so long. It's just been…it's been hard."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair and smiling weakly. "Jenny is so beautiful," she said softly. "So, so beautiful and talented and…well, pretty much perfect, even though she can be a little moody. Who could she have gotten that from, right?" She chuckled. "Her eyes remind me of you. You'd love her." She sucked in some air. "She misses you, too."

She was running out of pleasantries in her one-sided conversation. "So, um, listen," she began, and then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. It wasn't like he was going to interrupt her. For some reason, that was the thought that caused a lump to form in her throat. "Anyway," she said, forcing the word out. "I'm…I went back to Tree Hill. And…well, God, it's a long story, but…Lucas asked me to marry him. And I want to." She smiled to herself. "I'm so in love with him. And…and I don't know why I'm here, exactly. I don't feel like I need your permission, but I…I just want to know that this okay. That this is right, for me and for Jenny." She glanced around. "A sign would be good, you know," she said dryly.

Peyton waited, turning her eyes toward the sky before letting her gaze drift around the graveyard. She wasn't truly expecting to see anything, she was just searching for the moment that would allow her to find total closure. It shocked her when a leaf dropped from a tree nearby, dancing in the soft wind, reluctant to hit the ground. _Falling leaf, falling leaves, fall from…_ she mused frantically, trying to find the meaning.

And then the leaf finally rested on the ground, resting right in front of the gravestone of Scott Johnson.

She closed her eyes and reached up, gently unfastening her necklace with shaky fingers. She did it up again and the two rings rest in her palm. She pressed her lips to each and placed them on the ground under the flowers she'd already left there. "Thank you, Jake," she said softly.

-x-

"Oh! And I still _own_ you!" Skills cheered as he made his basket. He and Nathan had effectively beaten Lucas and Fergie. Mouth was sitting on the picnic table, watching them play.

Nathan high-fived Skills as all four men walked over to join Mouth. They'd already gone over each other's lives, picking up any new information and offering congratulations or sympathetic pats on the back. There wasn't much else to say, so they sat in silence for a few minutes, catching their breath.

"Okay, Luke, so what's the deal?" his brother finally asked.

"What makes you think there's a…deal?" Lucas replied innocently.

Mouth rolled his eyes. "Because you called us all here for the first time in _years_."

"Maybe I just wanted to hang out," he retorted.

"Will you spit it out already?" Fergie demanded.

"Let me guess," Nathan said lazily. "You and Peyton are moving in together."

Lucas couldn't hold back his grin. "Actually…we're getting married."

"_What_?" they all blurted in unison.

"Dude, how long has it even _been_?" Mouth asked incredulously.

Lucas spoke pointedly: "Too long."

"But…Brooke…" Fergie trailed off hesitantly.

"Brooke is being…freakishly supportive. And I guess it kind of makes sense. I mean, really…why wait when you know you want something, when you _know_ that it's right and that it should last forever?"

"So this is it…" Nathan said slowly. "You and Peyton."

He loved the sound of that. "Yeah. Me and Peyton."

"Well, _awesome_!" his brother crowed. "Team Peyton for the win! Fork it over!" he added, turning to Mouth.

Lucas watched in amazement as Mouth, sighing, pulled out his wallet and handed money into three waiting hands. "You _bet_ on my _relationships_?"

"For the record," Mouth replied, "I only bet on Brooke because she's my friend. I didn't really think she'd win."

He had no words.

"C'mon," Skills said, taking in his expression of disbelief. "It's _Peyton Sawyer_."

He could only laugh and shrug. There was so much truth in those two words, so much said in twelve letters. He was Lucas Scott, and she was Peyton Sawyer, and that was enough to explain their love story to anyone who knew them.

After a moment of silence, Fergie hesitantly said, "You know who's missing right?"

Lucas nodded, sighing deeply. "Jake," he said quietly.

Nathan put his hand on his brother's shoulder comfortingly. "You know he'd be happy, right? You'll take good care of her. It's what he would have wanted."

He managed a smile, hoping that his brother was right. "Thanks, man."

-x-

"Hey," Lucas said warmly, setting his book aside and smiling when Peyton trudged into his room around ten o'clock that night. He sat up. "You're home."

She smiled automatically at the sound of those words, pulling off her sweater and tossing it aside.

"You look exhausted, baby. Are you okay?"

She nodded, crawling into bed with him in her clothes, too tired to bother undressing. "Yeah," she said with a satisfied sigh, kissing him softly. "I missed you today."

"I missed you, too." He kissed her again. "I have something for you."

She perked up a bit. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I wanted to do this right, but I also don't want to wait, so…" He grabbed a small black box from his bedside table and cracked it open, revealing the ring inside to her. She gasped and he smiled. "Wanna make it official?"

"God, yes," she breathed, placing her hand in his and letting him slip the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, just snug enough.

"It was my mom's. From Keith."

Peyton got that full-body, fuzzy feeling, the one that made her heart melt. She couldn't believe that he was giving this to her. He hadn't given it to Brooke, then, which made sense – Brooke appreciated all things sentimental, but was also superficial and she would have wanted a _rock_. It gave her chills to think that, in a way, he'd been saving this for her. "Oh, Luke…thank you."

"Thank _you_," he returned, both playful and serious. "I'm so glad…to have this with you. To finally marry you, and live with you…"

She smiled, snuggling close to him. "I talked to Jenny today. About adoption. She wants to do it."

"Peyt," he breathed, "That's amazing. She's a great kid. You've been such a great mother to her." He paused. "Do you ever…" He stopped short, shaking his head. "Never mind."

"Hey, no. Say it."

"I don't want to freak you out."

She understood what he was saying. "Luke, with you and me, I don't feel like there's such a thing as moving too fast. It all just seems like what was always meant to happen."

He pushed her hair out of her face gently. "Okay. Well…do you ever…do you ever want to have a baby? I know you love Jenny, and you are the best mother to her, but do you ever…want to experience it all? Motherhood from the very beginning?"

Peyton smiled softly, her fingers sneaking under his shirt, his skin warm against her hands. "I love being Jenny's mom. You know I've always been attached to her. And I'm so happy to be a part of Miranda's life. I'll never threaten Brooke's role, but I'm already falling so in love with that little girl. I'm happy as is, Lucas. I mean, my mom didn't get birth to me, and I know how much she loved me. Biology doesn't really have anything to do it." Her eyes glinted in the dim light as she smirked, leaning her body into his. "_Why_? Lucas Scott, do you want to have a baby with me?"

He shrugged modestly. "I love you, Peyton. And I've got to admit, I kind of want a little boy."

"Basketball player?" she said knowingly. She knew how badly he desired to be a father to his son in all the ways Dan wasn't to him.

"You got me. Miranda's too much of a princess to even humour me with a single game."

"Honey…" She smiled adoringly at him. "You've seen Jenny play. In fact, I heard she kicked your butt today. She's been playing since she was four. There is no one in the world that I would rather have mentor her, or be a dad to her. And I know that…there's no one else Jake would have wanted to step up for her." Her smile softened. "I _know_ it."

Lucas rested his forehead gently against hers. "Thank you," he said meaningfully. "But, Peyt?"

"Yeah?" she murmured.

He smirked lasciviously. "That doesn't mean I don't want to knock you up."

She squealed as he practically pounced, pinning her down to the bed. She gasped appreciatively as he dipped his head to kiss her neck. His lips met hers in a lazy, languid kiss, her hand gently cupping his cheek. He kissed each of her fingers and then her ring, and she grinned at him, her eyes watering with overflowing affection.

"Practice makes perfect," she whispered back mischievously.


	31. Harmony

**A/N:** I'm back to writing long chapters! Woo! Alright, just a couple things to clarify. Firstly, the BP in this went a little differently than I had planned, but I think I'm okay with it. They're far from being best friends again, just so that's clear. And secondly: the monkey. Please don't hate me for the monkey. :P Feedback is always appreciated!

Harmony: the simultaneous playing of two or more notes which emphasize and play off of one another; a melody complimenting another melody

Peyton lifted Miranda up, setting the little girl down so that she was sitting on top of the island in the kitchen. "Okay, honey," she said, gently finger-combing the tangles out of Miranda's brown hair, "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I like everything," Mira said with an easy-going shrug.

Peyton's eyes widened. "_Everything_?" she asked. "No way."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, you definitely got that from your daddy," she laughed. "You are one easy kid to feed, you know that?" she asked fondly, tickling her stepdaughter-to-be.

Haley opened the sliding door and stepped into the house at that moment, her youngest child in her arms. "Hey!" she said cheerfully, and Peyton was reminded once more how much she'd missed home, the place where everyone walked in without knocking and almost always greeted you with a smile.

"Hey, foxy," she returned. "What's up?"

"Nothing, just wanted to stop by."

"Aunt Haley, can I play with Sebastian?" Miranda asked eagerly, hopping off the counter and holding out her arms.

"Sure, baby, but you know to be careful, right? Come on, I'll get you two settled in the living room." She winked at Peyton over her shoulder and herded the kids off.

By the time Haley returned, Peyton was cracking eggs into a bowl. "Where's Luke this morning?"

"Upstairs right now. Writing. What about your family? Where's Nathan and the rest of your brood? And Jenny, for that matter."

"_Jenny_…is out to breakfast with that boy of hers," Haley said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Jamie's hanging out at home, and Nathan took the twins to the River Court. So I thought I'd bring Sebastian over and say hi." She rested her elbows on the countertop and shook her head in amazement. "Peyton Sawyer, look at you."

"What?" Peyton laughed, glancing over at Haley as she whisked the eggs.

"What do you mean, _what_? God, you're glowing!" As Peyton blushed, she continued softly, "This is really what you always wanted, isn't it? This is really what feels right for you."

She nodded as she met Haley's eyes. "Yeah. It really is."

Haley sighed. "Listen, Peyton…I'm sorry if I was a bitch to you."

"Haley, no –"

"Come on. I was. I definitely was."

Peyton shrugged, planting one hand on her hip as she turned to face her friend. "Well…I was kind of a bitch first, so…"

Miranda trekked back into the room, messily holding her cousin only the way a little kid could. "Is it breakfast time yet?" she demanded. "I'm hungry."

"Soon," Peyton promised her as Haley bent down to gather her son out of Miranda's arms.

"Yeah, Mira, and Sebastian and I are going to stay and eat with you. Why don't you go and…set up your dollhouse. By the time you're done, the food'll probably be ready," Haley said.

"Okay!" she chirped, and dashed off.

Sebastian cooed in Haley's arms, reaching out toward Peyton. "Hey, baby boy," she said softly, shooting Haley a smile of thanks for occupying Miranda.

"Here, take him," Haley said softly, easing him into Peyton's eyes. "Don't worry about it; I promise you that I can flip pancakes," she chuckled. As she strode over the stove, she asked, "So we're okay?"

Peyton smiled as Sebastian played with her hair. "Yeah, Hales, of course we are."

"Okay. Good." Haley smiled back as she watched Peyton with her son. "That's…really good, actually, because I have something I want to ask you."

"Yeah?" Peyton asked, arching an eyebrow. She was intrigued.

"Yeah. We never got Sebastian baptized. There just didn't seem to be time, with Jamie and the twins running around under our feet and taking up all our time, Nathan's basketball, and my music…you know, just the craziness of life. But all the other kids are. Luke and Brooke are Jamie's godparents, Karen and Whitey for the twins…anyway, we're finally going to baptize Sebastian in a couple weeks, and I was thinking…that you and Luke should be his godparents."

Peyton glanced down at the toddler she held and then back up at Haley, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," Haley scolded gently. "Look at him, he absolutely _adores_ you, he has since the moment you met. Much like someone else I know," she teased pointedly. She flipped the pancakes over and tilted her head to the side. "So what do you say?"

"Yes! Oh my God, Haley, of course I say yes." She grinned at Sebastian. "I'm gonna spoil you so bad," she cooed. She turned her grin toward her friend. "I actually have something to ask you, too."

"Shoot."

She took a deep breath and mimicked Haley's words: "Lucas and I are getting married in a couple weeks, and I was thinking…that you should be my maid of honour."

Haley's jaw dropped and she let out a squeal of joy. "Oh my God! _Peyton_! Of course I will!" she cried, rushing over and engulfing her son and Peyton both in a massive hug.

-x-

"You are _weird_."

Her eyebrows flew up as she stared at him indignantly. "_Excuse_ me?"

Jordan laughed. "I mean it in the best possible way, Jenny. I've just never met someone who didn't like blueberries before."

She smirked. "You should have asked before you dragged me to the place with the 'best blueberry waffles in the world'," she told him, complete with air quotes.

"Lesson learned." He gave her a perfectly adorable grin. "So…how is everything with you? I mean, with your mom and all that. And your ribs," he added guiltily.

Jenny smiled peacefully. "My ribs are _fine_. Don't beat yourself up over that. And everything with my mom…I think it's all going to be okay." She raised her eyebrows. "She's getting married."

"No way," he commented, casually surprised.

"Yep."

Jordan rested his elbows on the tabletop, crossing his arms over each other and leaning toward her, giving her the kind of intimate look that sent her heart racing. "You need a date for that wedding or what, Jenny Jagielski?"

-x-

"Hey, baby," Haley said with a blissful sigh, leaning into her husband as she kissed him, sandwiching their son in between them for a moment.

"Hey, you," he replied as he pulled back from their kiss, gently taking Sebastian into his arms. "Where'd you disappear to this morning?"

"To Luke's…well, Luke and Peyton's, I guess."

Nathan grinned at her as they collapsed onto the couch wearily, in unison, settling Sebastian in between them. "They're moving fast, huh?"

"They're getting _married_," Haley divulged, unable to hold back a small smile.

"Yeah…" He reached over, taking her hand in his, his thumb running lightly across her wedding band. "He told me yesterday."

"And you didn't tell me?!" She batted at his chest half-heartedly. She sighed, forgiving him without even waiting for a reply. "She asked me to be her maid of honour."

"Sweet. I love being in wedding parties with my girl."

She smiled as Sebastian held out a teddy bear to her and leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Did Luke ask you to be best man?"

"No. But I will be."

"You're so cocky!" Haley exclaimed laughingly. "He's so going to ask…Fergie, or someone, now, just because you're so full of yourself."

"No way." Nathan grinned. "Does this same a little insane to you? Brooke and Lucas _just_ got divorced, Peyton and Lucas are – hey, is she pregnant?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with potential knowledge.

Haley rolled her eyes. "No." She hesitated, "Well, if she is, she didn't tell me about it. But Nathan, come on, who are we to judge? We got married when we were sixteen!"

"There is that," he admitted.

"I was lucky, to find you so early," she said softly. "And I know we've had our hard times, but we've been together all this time, working through it all, your basketball and my music, and we've still had time for our _beautiful boys_," she gushed, grinning at her youngest child. She turned back to her husband. "Who are we to deny them what we've got? Yeah, they've screwed up, but we all have. And they deserve this."

-x-

"Brooke!" Peyton called, swinging her purse off her shoulder and setting it down on the couch of the Tree Hill branch of COB. "You here?"

"You're late!" the brunette retorted, a genuine smile on her lips as she emerged from the back room.

"Sorry," Peyton apologized, returning the smile. "So, you're back! How was New York?"

"Busy. As usual. Good."

Their conversation hit an awkward lull and Peyton found herself breaking eye contact. Her life was falling so seamlessly into place as of late that it kind of broke her heart that her relationship with Brooke was never going to be the same.

"Guest list," Brooke said quietly. Her voice sounded muted and harsh all at once.

"Excuse me?" Peyton asked in puzzlement.

"You need a guest list," Brooke clarified, gesturing that Peyton should come over by the counter and bending down to dig in her drawers for a pad of paper and a pencil. "Who do you want to invite?"

She sighed. "Listen, Brooke –"

"Is Lucas coming?"

"Um, yeah. He said he'd be here soon. But, B. –"

"Peyton." She paused and sighed. "Chances are that whatever you have to say…I don't want to hear it."

Peyton bit her lower lip. "Okay. Alright. But the thing is…you don't have to do this."

"Oh, believe me, I do," Brooke muttered. At Peyton's inquisitive look, she continued, "The sooner you two move on with your star-crossed, predestined lives, I can move on with mine."

"Okay, but I…I don't want this huge, elaborate wedding. I love you for being willing to do this, but I…it's not necessary. I don't want a big poufy dress or tiaras or three hundred guests and a million red roses."

Brooke's eye flashed, but Peyton couldn't decipher the emotion within them. "Well, what _do_ you want, then?"

She shrugged even though she'd been envisioning it for years. "Something small, just family and our closest friends. I want to wear something simple; the dress doesn't even have to be long. I want to wear the same veil my mom did. And I want lilies."

"I see."

"Brooke…" She sighed remorsefully. "Listen. You _really_ don't have to do this. I didn't drag my sorry self to your wedding. You don't need to _plan_ mine."

"Hey, girls," Lucas said enthusiastically as he stepped inside, so much forced casualness in his voice that both of them smirked to themselves.

"Hey," Peyton said softly, turning to smile at him.

"You're late," Brooke added softly.

"Sorry," he replied, both dutiful and awkward.

The three of them exchanged a singular glance, a basic agreement on how entirely messed up the intertwinement of their lives was. Brooke sighed. "I'm going in back to find…fabric. You two…sit," she said, nodding toward the couch, "And come up with a freaking guest list, already."

Peyton stared after her (ex) best friend regretfully, heaving a sigh. Lucas' hand ran lightly down her spine and she felt his lips press against her neck. "You alright?" he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Yeah," she whispered, leaning into him and closing her eyes for a moment.

"You are not. Come on, Peyton," he said with a knowing, teasing lilt in his voice. "Tell me what's wrong."

She turned to face him; his arms remained loosely around his waist as she clasped her hands just behind his neck. "I don't want to hurt her, Luke," she said honestly. "I mean, I know I have…a lot…already, and that we've all done a lot of crap that's been unfair to each other but…Lucas, that is the girl who crawled into my bed every night for a week after my mom died just to be with me while I cried."

"I know," he said tenderly. "And that's the woman I was with for years. I know that you don't want to hurt her because I don't want to either."

"Maybe it's too fast," she said quietly.

"Are you worried?"

She shook her head, kissing him quickly. "No, not about us. I am so sure about marrying you, Luke. I just…maybe I shouldn't have said yes that day in the hospital. Maybe we should let everyone adjust to this first."

"Peyton…"

She smiled even through her worry, teasing, "Oh no, you've got the reasonable voice."

"Because this _is_ reasonable. Miranda thinks you're the coolest person ever. Haley and Nathan are happy for us. You and I have both talked to Jenny, and she's really okay with this, isn't she?"

"Yeah."

"And Brooke…is going to be okay with this. Eventually. She will. But nothing's going to change the fact that this has hurt her. I know…I know you don't want to hear it and I don't want it to be true but…that's what happens when people leave and do stupid things and throw themselves into relationships just for the security."

"Aw, look at you not naming names," she told him sweetly, but her eyes were still full of worry.

"C'mon," he said, eyes dancing with mirth, pulling her a little closer. "Don't you wanna marry me?"

"Of course I do."

"Yeah…" He tucked her hair back behind her ear, fingers lingering there. "And I want to marry you. I wish we could just run off to Vegas right now."

She laughed, holding him closer as well. "Then Brooke would _actually_ kill us both."

He cupped her face in his hands gently, and she smiled softly at him, resting her hands lightly on his wrists. "I love you. It's that simple, Peyton. I love you, and I want to be with you forever, and I want forever to start now. It feels like there's been all this wasted time. God, I would have married you years ago if I could have…"

"Years ago?" another voice asked, tight and tense in its tone, interrupting their moment.

-x-

They jumped apart and Lucas winced visibly when he saw Brooke staring at them, clutching bolts of fabric so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. "Brooke –"

"_Years_ ago?" she repeated at a higher pitch. The bolts of fabric clattered to the floor as she glared at them both fiercely. "Years ago, as in, when you were supposedly _in love_ with _me_? When you were busy proposing and promising forever to _me_?"

"Brooke, wait, listen. I have been _nothing_ but faithful to you in every way since we got married."

The thing about his ex-wife was that she wasn't stupid. "But before that?" she demanded angrily, brown eyes flashing dangerously. She glanced back and forth between them and shook her head in disbelief. "Oh my God. Betraying Brooke just _doesn't get old_, does it?"

"Hey, wait," Peyton tried, but Brooke cut her off.

"Tell me what happened. Just tell me, what happened. What, did you…propose to Peyton first? Declare your love for her first? Tell me, Lucas, is there _anything_ that you and I have done that Peyton hasn't experienced with you first?!"

"Well, actually…sex. And…having a kid." He shook his head, glancing down when he saw how murderous she looked. "And clearly those aren't the answers you're looking for."

"This isn't funny!"

"No, it's not," Peyton agreed quickly, shooting him a warning look.

He sighed. "Brooke, I loved you. You know that I loved you. But our marriage is over, and –"

"Yeah, because of _her_!" she cried, flinging an arm in Peyton's direction. "And it never should have had a beginning, because of _her_!" Tears gathered in her eyes and she said, "And I always thought _she_ was your regret."

Peyton opened her mouth to speak but then stopped. "What?" she asked softly, glancing at her husband-to-be in confusion.

"I _gave_ him to you!" Brooke yelled at the blonde.

"My heart isn't property," Lucas interjected quietly.

"Brooke…"

"No! I could have held on! I could have insisted, because of Miranda, because of _me_. But I let him go because I thought that on some stupid level you both deserved it! God, I should have known. Once a back-stabbing, boy-stealing bitch, _always_ a back –"

"Stop." Lucas' voice was low and intense, but not threatening.

Brooke shook her head, blinking back tears. "I was _right_," she seethed, kicking the bolts of fabric toward Peyton's feet. "You two sure as hell deserve each other," she whispered before storming out of her own store.

Peyton sank slowly onto the couch, reaching down to touch the soft ivory material at her feet. Lucas ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Babe…"

She looked at him through wounded, befuddled eyes. "What did she mean…me being your mistake?"

-x-

"Hey, Brooke."

She looked up when she heard the slightly hesitant voice speak her name. It was Jenny, sitting on the couch in her pyjamas, holding what appeared to be an old toy and watching _Dirty Dancing_.

"Hey," she said softly, blinking back her tears and gesturing to the TV screen. "Nobody puts Baby in a corner, huh?"

Jenny grinned. "Exactly." She glanced back and forth between her movie and her 'aunt'. "Um, you wanna watch?"

Brooke smiled a bit. It wasn't like she actually had anything else to do. "Sure." She sat down on the opposite end of the couch, setting her purse down. "Where's Naley and the boys?"

"Nathan and Haley went to Tric for drinks with some of the CMC mentors. The boys are all asleep. Are you looking for Haley?"

"I don't really know," she admitted, shooting Jenny a sheepish smile. "I guess I've kind of lost the place that feels like home."

Jenny nodded slowly, returning her smile with a similar one. "I know the feeling," she laughed lightly.

The brunette sighed, looking at the fourteen-year-old sympathetically. Her eyes fell on the stuffed animal clutched in the teenager's hands and her breath caught momentarily in her throat before a genuine smile formed on her lips. "You know, I used to have a purple monkey."

Jenny's eyebrows lifted. "Yeah?"

"Yep."

She looked down at her own. "I've had this forever. I'm pretty sure my mom gave it to me before my parents ever got together."

"Your mom gave it to you?"

Jenny nodded, locking eyes with Brooke. "Probably because of you, right?"

Brooke sighed heavily, leaning back into the couch and closing her eyes. "Yep," she sighed again. "Probably because of me."

-x-

"Peyton, I –"

She shook her head, standing up, tearing the material as her foot got caught in it. "_Shit_," she gasped, tears welling in her eyes for reasons she couldn't quite explain.

"Peyton…"

"Never mind," she whispered, trying not to let him see how badly she wanted to cry. "I have to go talk to her."

"Or I could, but –"

"No, _I_ have to go talk to her."

"Don't leave before we talk about this."

She whirled on him. "Luke, I told you this wasn't a good idea, I –" As she went to take a step toward him, threads got stuck on the heel of her shoe, causing her to fall backward. For a moment they were both silent as they took in their situation. Then, reluctantly, she began to laugh through her tears. "_Damn_ it!"

Lucas began to chuckle and she glared at him half-heartedly.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm sorry. Peyt, I'm…" He stifled a laugh. "Here, let me…" He held out his hand to her, and seeking vengeance, she pulled him down with her.

"_Ow_," he groaned as he hit the floor, shooting her an incredulous look, and she grinned at him, kinking her eyebrows playfully even as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"You deserved it."

Lucas rested one arm across her body, his palm pressed to the ground on his other side, bringing them closer. He lifted his other hand and used his thumb to wipe the moisture from her cheeks. "You were never my mistake," he said seriously, resting his forehead against hers. "A lot of time you feel like the only thing that's right."

She nodded slightly, closing her eyes and breathing him in. "I know," she whispered. Her hands cupped his face and her lips found his for a slow, forgiving kiss. She sighed when they pulled apart, smiling gently at him. "Sorry for freaking out."

"Sorry for putting you in this mess."

"Sorry for _starting_ this mess."

"Sorry for letting you."

She grinned reluctantly, leaning in to kiss him again. "Sorry for leaving…but I really do have to go see her."

-x-

"Hey, honey," Peyton said easily as she walked toward the couch in Nathan and Haley's living room. For some reason, it didn't surprise her at all to find them both here. "Go hop in the car, babe; Luke'll take you back to our place for the night. You've got your pick of bedrooms. I'll be there soon." She nodded toward the TV. "If you hurry you can make it there by the time this commercial break is over and not even miss anything."

"Okay." Jenny stood up, understanding that the other two women in the room had to talk. She waved to Brooke and kissed her mother's cheek quickly before hurrying out.

Brooke waited until Jenny was out of the house to ask bitterly, "Your _mutual_ place, huh? _Our_ house?" She sighed. It had been _her_ house a very short time ago.

Peyton sighed as she sank into a nearby chair. "Brooke, I don't want it to be like this."

"Neither do I, Peyton," she said helplessly, pointedly. "But I've tried, and it's clear that there's no other way."

The blonde sighed, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "I think a good step in the right direction would be for to _stop_ planning my wedding."

Brooke smiled mirthlessly. "That was stupid, right?"

"Yeah. Kind of _really_ stupid."

She sighed. "I just…I thought it might be good. I just wanted you two to get together already so I could…try to move on."

"It's not that simple," Peyton said quietly.

"No. It's not." She sighed again. "It's like I told you at Nathan and Haley's wedding. He's not just a boy."

Peyton bit her lower lip, nervous about what she knew she had to say. "But…he's not _your_ boy anymore."

"No. But he's still _the_ boy."

It was Peyton's turn to sigh. "Planning _my_ wedding to _him_ isn't going to help you fall out of love with him."

"Yeah…" Brooke whispered. "Yeah, well, you would know, right? You went to Savannah to try to do that." She paused before meeting Peyton's eyes. "You gave Jenny a purple monkey."

Peyton smiled slightly. "That was back when you liked me."

Brooke returned the hesitant grin. "But you…you let her keep it. She still has it."

The blonde shrugged. "I missed you. Even after you bitch-slapped me and screamed at me…I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Brooke admitted quietly. "Even though I always kind of knew you were the one Lucas wanted, I missed you." She tapped her feet nervously against the floor. "Listen, about what I said earlier…you weren't his mistake. I was. And, no, don't," she insisted when she saw that Peyton wanted to protest. "I don't mean it in some awful, self-deprecating way. I just mean that I hid with him when I was scared of the world, and he hid with me when he was scared of how he felt about you. It was a mistake." She sighed. "But you're still a bitch," she added, meeting Peyton's eyes for a split second.

Peyton said nothing. For now, they'd leave it at that.

"So, I'm going to…let it go. I'm going to let _him_ go and leave you two to plan a really crappy wedding without my help, and then I'm going to come and bring a hot date and make fun of your decorations."

"So you're done? Helping with the wedding and everything…you're done?"

"I'm done."

"Oh, thank God," she breathed overdramatically, glancing toward the ceiling.

"Shut up." Brooke turned her attention back toward the movie. "I'll stay here with the kids until Nathan and Haley come back. You go…" She made a face as if the word was sour. "_Home_."

Peyton pressed her lips together. "We used to watch this together. _Dirty Dancing_. Remember? You were obsessed." She hesitated. "It was fun."

Brooke sighed, understanding what she meant. "Maybe someday."

She nodded as she stood up. "Yeah. Maybe someday." She looked back at Brooke one last time before she headed for the door.

"You ever think about it?" Peyton turned back around, but Brooke wasn't looking at her as she spoke. "That night at Nathan's?"

"You mean when _you_ were being a manipulative bitch?" Peyton asked matter-of-factly.

Brooke smirked in acknowledgement but didn't look away from the movie. "You and Lucas were having all this crazy eye sex, and I was so jealous. And then when I dared you to kiss him and you did…it was obvious that he wanted _you_. But you got scared of everything that night and you ran. If you two had just had sex, everything would've been different." She finally turned to look at the blonde. "So basically this mess boils down to you being a prude," she said, arching one eyebrow.

Peyton rolled her eyes, smiling slightly in spite of herself. "Bye, B. Davis," she said quietly.

-x-

She walked into the house fifteen minutes later, realizing that it actually was beginning to feel like hers, like _home_. She walked into the living room, surprised by how dark everything was, and smiled at the sight she saw.

Miranda and Jenny were passed out on the couch; Miranda's head in Jenny's lap clutching Jenny's monkey, and the fourteen-year-old leaned into the arm of the couch, her head against a pillow. The end of _Dirty Dancing_ was playing on the TV screen, the only light in the room other than that coming from Lucas' laptop. He was sitting in a chair, typing away quietly. He looked up and smiling, mouthing _Hey you_.

"Hi," she whispered as she walked over to him, shedding her long-sleeved shirt so that she was wearing only a camisole. He set his laptop aside and she settled herself on his lap, leaning into him.

"She okay?"

She shrugged as she snuggled into him, but said confidently, "She will be."

"And you?"

Peyton smiled even though he couldn't see her face as she tucked her head into his shoulder. "Much better now." She looked over at her daughter and his daughter and it warmed her heart. "Look at them," she whispered into his shirt.

"Yeah…pretty cute, huh?"

"You wanna know what Brooke told me?"

"_Do _I?" he asked wearily.

She giggled sleepily. "She told me that if you and I had just had sex that night at Dan's money burn…none of this would have happened." She sighed. "Do you think that's true?"

She felt his head shake against hers. "No. Well, maybe. But I also kind of think that _this_ was all worth it. I mean, look at that. Look at our girls. We wouldn't have had them. Don't get me wrong, because I would have loved to have every moment from that one to this one to have been shared with you…but it almost makes it better. All of this insanity has proven to me…and to you…that we're meant to be with one another. You remember what you told me before that night, about reading a book, and I asked you how it ended?"

"You remember that?" she asked in wonderment.

He nodded. "Of course I do. I was head-over-heels in love with you and you were practically propositioning me."

She lifted her head, cupping his neck with one of her hands, and kissed him. He groaned quietly. "When you say things like that…" she murmured against his lips as his hand slipped under her shirt, his skin warm against her back.

"Yeah?" he asked suggestively.

She giggled mutedly, meeting his eyes as she pulled away. "What are you writing?" she whispered.

He smiled at her, brushing her bangs out of her eyes with her free hand. He shrugged as she searched his eyes, in love with the way that he looked at her. "The end of that story."

Her eyes fluttered closed as a smile tugged the corners of her lips up. She leaned into him, burying her face in his chest.

"Got you again, didn't I?" he gloated.

Peyton lifted her head slowly, kissing his neck and trailing her lips along his jaw before she finally faced him, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. She leaned in, her nose, and then her lips, barely brushing his. "You always get me," she whispered, and melted into him as they kissed.


	32. Sinfonietta

**A/N: **Wow, it has been a _long_ time since I updated, and I'm very sorry for that. I had hellish exams and grad, some personal stuff, and a lack of inspiration, but it's back! This story has been in the works for a year now, and it's had its ups and downs, and now we're coming toward the end, so I'm determined to finish it. I'm not sure exactly how many chapters are left, but I suspect it'll end at 35. Your support and feedback throughout has been _fantastic_; I'm not sure I would have managed to get even this chapter out if you hadn't constantly asked for it. :)

Sinfonietta: a small symphony

Peyton marched into her fiancé's – she was still getting used to the word – office and placed her hand against his laptop, effectively shutting it closed.

Lucas eyed her amusedly, sliding his chair back from his desk and reaching out to her, gently grasping her wrist as he pulled her body close to his, letting her settle onto his lap. "What's wrong, babe?"

"I want to elope," she told him firmly with the widest green eyes she could manage. When that didn't seem to work, she softened her expression and went for a coy smile instead. "Please?"

He smirked sweetly at her. "Oh my God," he murmured.

"What?" Peyton whispered, finding that she was expecting a compliment.

"Are you actually regretting forcing Brooke to stop planning our wedding?"

"No! Well…yes. Maybe. I don't know." She sighed. "This whole big, elaborate wedding thing…it's not me, it's her. Let's just…let's go to City Hall!" she suggested brightly.

"Peyt," he sighed, giving her the gentlest chiding look she'd ever seen.

"Luke," she sighed, mimicking him lightly as she toyed with the collar of his shirt.

"We can't elope. Both of our daughters would be incredibly disappointed. If we don't have a proper, serious wedding with guests, Brooke will lose it. Haley and Nathan – okay, just Haley," he conceded, "will never forgive us, especially since we've already asked them to stand up there with us. And you…what about you?"

"What _about_ me?" she asked quietly.

"I want to give this to you," he told her solemnly, his eyes locked with hers. "Your first wedding, to Jake…you were so young, and taking care of Jenny, and you didn't do anything to really celebrate it. I want you to have that dream wedding. It doesn't have to be all princesses and fairytales because I know that's not you, babe, but…you are absolutely _everything_ to me. Let me give you your dream come true."

Peyton's lips curled up into a reluctantly smiled before she kissed him languorously. "It's just…what if my dream is City Hall?" she tried.

"Or what if your dream is getting married in the same spot your parents did with our closest family and friends around us, looking incredibly beautiful and pretty damn sexy in whatever dress you choose, instead of just these jeans and your sweater."

"I'm pretty sure the sexy part is _your_ dream," she teased him, "And you _love_ these jeans, Luke."

"Peyton," he said softly.

She sighed, resting her forehead against his. "You really want to do all of that for me?"

"I owe you, baby girl," Lucas told her huskily.

Shaking her head, she objected, "No. You and me, we're even. We both made mistakes. It's been hard on everyone. From now on…we're moving forward."

He nodded, smiling at her. "I just want to make you happy. Is that allowed?"

"How is it…that you know what's going to make me happy even before I do?"

"Because you're _you_," he joked, his smile widening into a grin so gorgeous she wanted to kiss it away. "And happiness has never been your forte."

Her jaw dropped and she smacked his arm half-heartedly. "Luke!"

He shrugged innocently, still grinning back at her. "Think you'll let me change that?" he asked her quietly.

Peyton nodded, unable to keep from smiling back. "You already have."

-x-

"Breathe," Haley lectured her friend laughingly as Peyton slouched in her chair and buried her face in her hands. "This doesn't have to be a big deal."

"How did you get married twice?" Peyton demanded as she straightened up, staring sadly at the slew of papers on the table in front of them. "And more importantly, _why_?"

Haley rested her hand over Peyton's and met her gaze. "Because I _love_ Nathan," she said calmly, "the same way you love Luke. And we wanted our friends and family to celebrate that love with us, the same way, deep down, Peyton Sawyer, you know that you do, too."

She sighed again. "I'm happy, Haley," she pouted.

The shorter woman burst out laughing. "That's a _good thing_, honey."

"Exactly. For the first time in a long time I'm so happy with the way things are going in every single aspect of my life, and I don't want anything to ruin that, especially not all this wedding stress."

"This day," Haley told her firmly, gesturing to the slew of papers, "is going to be one of the best of your whole life. I promise."

"_Speaking _of stress…"

Both women turned to where Jenny was seated five feet away, impatiently looking at her mentor while she tapped her foot nervously against the floor. Her guitar was resting on her lap, a well-handled piece of paper in her hands.

"I'm kind of feeling some of that right now," she added dryly.

Haley, switching into her mentoring role, grimaced sympathetically and sat up straighter. "Sorry, hon. But you're doing so well. I wouldn't be worried."

"My showcase is _tonight_."

"We _know_," Peyton imitated her tone of voice gently. "But you're going to be _amazing_."

Jenny met her eyes, conveying for a moment through her gaze how nervous she really was. Peyton's breath caught in her throat and her smile softened into something more understanding.

"Is it because Jordan will be watching?" Haley asked, a sly note in her voice.

"No," Jenny said instantly, her cheeks turning faintly pink. "Well, maybe a little. But…" She trailed off, throwing another look in Peyton's direction.

"You're going to be wonderful, baby," she said softly.

"Yeah…" the younger blonde muttered, noncommittal, before she pulled up a smile and her eyes lit up a bit more. "At least, I will be if you stop hogging my mentor _three hours_ before the showcase."

Peyton was already on her feet, heading out the door. "She's _my_ wedding planner," she teased back, pausing to kiss the top of Jenny's head.

"Hey, now, you've gotta pay me for _that_ job!" Haley called after her. "If you wanted someone to do all that you should've kept Brooke around."

She stopped in the doorway, turning around to shoot Haley a look that was searching for honesty. "Do you think…do you think she'll come back? Brooke," she clarified. "For the wedding."

Haley nodded, meeting her gaze and smirking a little bit as Jenny let out an exasperated sigh. "I know she will."

"But I didn't…for her…"

She shook her head, her smirk softening into a sweet smile. "It's different. You and Luke. It's different."

"Different _good_," Jenny interjected forcefully before Peyton could ask and draw out the conversation any longer.

Her mother held up her hands as if in surrender. "I can see when I'm not wanted. Thank you. Both of you." With one last wink, she headed out the door with all her things, on her way an appointment with a florist.

-x-

When Peyton came home, her mind still full of potential wedding problems, she was greeted by the sight of Lucas bustling around the kitchen looking very Mr. Mom, Mira sitting in a nearby chair with a sketchpad on her lap and some crayons on her head. She was relieved to see that dinner was taken care of; she was exhausted.

Setting her things down, Peyton leaned against the counter, tilting her head to the side slightly. "You're an angel," she breathed out gratefully when he caught sight of her and smiled. She loved that automatic smile of his, loved being someone who could trigger that joy.

"Nah, I don't think so," he shrugged, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. "You are." He wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her close. "You look a whole lot like the answer to my prayers," he teased, his lips brushing hers.

Peyton smiled back, almost shyly, and was about to sink into the kiss when a voice interrupted, causing her to pull away a bit.

"It's one thing to be all lovey-dovey-cute around me, another entirely to be _corny_," Jenny sighed as she breezed by, her tone equal parts irritation and affection. She was trying to fasten a necklace around her neck as she rushed through the house, clearly looking for something.

Peyton laughed as she watched her go, resting her head against Lucas' shoulder. "She's panicking," she said mutedly.

"Understandable." He kissed her temple and she let herself cuddle into him for a moment. "Will she eat with us?"

"No; she's got to get their early." She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "At least, that's what she _says_…I think she might be getting pizza with that boy."

"The boy from the _car crash_?" he asked dangerously.

She shot him an amused look. "It wasn't his fault. She's young, Luke, let her have a little fun."

"_Fun_? Do you remember what kind of fun _we _used to have?" He wiggled his eyebrows and shook his head. "She's lucky to have such a cool mom." They both watched as Jenny ran back through the kitchen, texting furiously on her cell phone but pausing to tickle Miranda, who giggled a little. Lucas sighed. "She's so grown up. I've missed…so much."

"You'll make up for it. I know it," Peyton promised him, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. "So," she said when they pulled apart, her tone less serious, "is this what it's like when your husband's a writer? You come home to dinner on the table everyday?"

He grinned at her. "Say that again."

"Peyton!" Miranda called brightly, standing up on the chair she'd been sitting in and holding out a colourful piece of paper. "Come look at my drawing!"

"Sit back down, sweetie, you'll fall," Lucas told her.

Peyton smiled, kissing his cheek. "Husband," she repeated softly, as per his request, before crossing the kitchen to admire her almost-stepdaughter's artwork. "Wow, baby," she said appreciatively, pulling Miranda into her arms. "This is beautiful. Front-and-centre on the fridge kind of material, don't you think, Luke?"

Before he could reply, Jenny came flying into the kitchen right again. "I have to go!" she cried frantically.

"Okay!" Peyton held out a hand in a _stop_ gesture. "Let me look at you for a second." Jenny was dressed up in a casual way, one of her oldest necklaces around her neck, and it struck Peyton in that moment that Lucas was right, Jenny really was growing up. "You look amazing, babe, and you're going to _be_ amazing."

"I know," Jenny answered cheekily, then cracked a nervous grin. "No, I don't."

Peyton curved the arm she was still holding out, gesturing for Jenny to come to her and join the hug. "You will," she whispered, pressing a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "I know it. You want me to drive you there? We can roll down the windows and yell, get some of that anxiety out," she enticed.

"I wanna come!" Mira cried excitedly.

Jenny laughed. "Thanks, Mom, but Jordan's picking me up."

Lucas scowled, turning around. "Car-crash boy is _driving _you there?" Peyton smirked, and then laughed, unable to hold in her amusement. "What?" he asked her, looking mildly insulted.

"Honey…" She bit her lip to contain her smile. "It's just, doesn't that remind you of an old nickname of your own…_rake boy_?"

His eyes widened and Jenny sighed, more to herself than at any of them. "I really have to go, then you two can get back to your flirting."

Lucas winked at Peyton before directing all his attention to Jenny and smiling. "Good luck, Jen."

"Thanks," she smiled back.

"Alright, get out of here," Peyton sighed, pulling Jenny and Mira into another joint hug. "Go kill it, baby girl," she said fondly, waving as Jenny hurried out the door. "We'll see you there." She exhaled and turned her attention back to Miranda. "You wanna pick some magnets and we'll put this up where it belongs?" she asked, gesturing to the drawing.

As she laughed with Miranda, helping her hang her masterpiece and gently setting her down, shooing her off to face her hands, Peyton was conscious of Lucas in the background, draining the pasta and setting out cutlery, and she was struck by how very normal and familial the last few moments of her life had been.

And by how very much she'd loved it.

-x-

"Babe," Lucas said softly, leaning toward his fiancée. "This is _Jenny's_ showcase, not yours. I think you're more nervous than she could ever be."

She turned to him and he kissed her worried smile.

"She'll be fine," he promised, resting his hand on her knee. Nathan was sitting on his other side, Sebastian on his lap, followed by Noah and Nick, who were engrossed in some portable video game, and Jamie, who actually seemed pretty happy to be there. Haley was backstage, with the other mentors of the programme, and Mira had chosen to sit not next to her father, or in between Lucas and Peyton but simply _next to Peyton_. As Brooke Davis' daughter, they all knew it was better to just give her what she wanted, especially if it was that simple and sweet.

"_I _know she will. I just don't know if _she_ knows she will," Peyton retorted, shooting him a playful glare.

"You're such a good mom," he said huskily, admiration clear in his eyes, pressing his lips against her neck. She sighed, tilting her head slightly.

"You're _not_ distracting me," she told him firmly, even though they were both very aware that he was.

"Hey, with the PDA, over there!" Nathan exclaimed. "My kids are here!"

"Your kids have seen worse," Lucas informed him without turning around to look at his brother. "And that was totally _your_ fault."

Peyton whacked Lucas' knee with her program as his hand slipping into her hair, tangling in her curls. "It's starting," she hissed.

Chris Keller strode on stage, beaming down at the crowd, and Peyton caught the mildly irritated look that Nathan and Lucas exchanged as the musician said, "You know, when Chris Keller started CMC, he never thought…"

-x-

Nearly two hours after Chris' ridiculously long, relatively humourous, and slightly self-absorbed, half-hour-long introduction speech, Jenny took to the stage, looking very pretty and mostly self-confident as she perched on a stool, holding her guitar. Peyton felt her heart swell as she caught her daughter's eye momentarily, and Lucas gave her knee a squeeze. She rested her hand on top of his.

"So, um, I've been working with Haley James Scott this summer," Jenny said, allowing a brief moment of silence for Nathan to cheer and the appreciative applause that followed, "And she has taught me a lot. Not just about music," she added with a private smile. "I guess what I've learned most about this summer is…is history, and the power of history, especially with somebody you love. Because love's…" She made a face, afraid to sound too cliché. "Because love is the very most powerful thing. It's everlasting, even if you _say_ it's over, or someone _tells_ you it's over or that it just can't _be_…love _transcends_," she finished with a shrug and another one of those private smiles.

Peyton and Lucas exchanged a look, her eyes shining as they meet his, because it was obvious they were at least _part_ of what Jenny was referring to, and also because it was even _more_ obvious that what she just said was a Haley word, courtesy of her aunt-slash-mentor, always a tutor at heart.

"So, you wanna hear about that?" Jenny asked, flashing her father's grin with her mother's edgy sweetness in her voice as her fingers danced along the strings of her guitar.

Everyone laughed.

And then she started singing, and there was complete, stunned silence.

-x-

Peyton couldn't find her fast enough afterward, slipping through the crowds and backstage with Lucas' hand in hers. She needed to cry, or scream, or really, just hug her daughter, because –

"Jenny!" She let go of Lucas to engulf the fourteen-year-old in a hug, kissing her forehead. Jenny was glowing with success, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright.

"You think I did good?" she asked, bouncing up onto the balls of her feet excitedly.

"So good. _Way, way_ better than good," Peyton laughed, even as a tear spilled onto her cheek. "Baby girl –" She got stuck there, her throat closing over.

"Your dad would be very, very proud of you," Lucas said lowly, with infinite kindness, voicing the words that Peyton couldn't quite get out.

Jenny's eyes filled, too, even as she grinned brightly. She pulled out of her mother's embrace to hug Lucas instead, and Peyton felt like her heart might explode.

-x-

"Where're you bringing me?" she giggled, her laugh breathy in the late-night air. They'd celebrated, with hugs and tears and a lot of ice cream, and Nathan and Haley had taken Miranda home with them for the night. Jenny was out celebrating with Jordan and the other campers, her curfew extended for the night. Lucas and Peyton were left on their own, and he'd covered her eyes, using a tie as a blindfold, in the parking lot outside Tric, driving her to a "secret location".

"C'mere," he said instead of replying, taking her hands and guiding her as she stepped out of the car.

"Luke," she laughed as she tripped; he caught her quickly. She lifted her hand, tugging the blindfold down. "We're at…the river court?" she asked quietly. It was lit softly, tinier lights sparkling across the river.

"Yeah."

She flicked his tie at his chest. "How many times did you drive around town into tricking me into thinking we were going somewhere further?"

"I'll never tell," he shrugged, his hands tucked in his pockets. He looked so endearing in that moment that she couldn't help but take a step forward and kiss him, looping his tie around his neck again.

"Why are we here?" she asked softly.

"Because I want to marry you here."

"Here?" Her eyes widened. "At the river court?"

"Yeah." His eyes searched her face, his hands settling lightly on her arms. "What do you think?"

"Luke, all this wedding planning…" She sighed, looking around; she could feel herself giving in. "It _would_ be kind of perfect, if we…we got those little strings of lights…and…"

"And all that history," he said softly, teasingly, continuing to quote Jenny's lyrics: "converging on the spot that marked the beginning of it all."

"It was a big deal. Us. Here. _We_ were _here_," she replied mutedly, staring down at the tarmac under their feet before glancing up at him again.

"When I said I'd be seeing you, all those years ago," Lucas agreed, gently pulling her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist while hers slipped around her neck. "And when I did see you again, right here, when I found out you were back." His nose brushed against hers before their lips met. "We _are_ here. Marry me here, Peyt. We began here, every time. So let's begin our life together here."

Biting her lip lightly she whispered, "It could be so beautiful. With the lights – but _casual_, nothing too extravagant. Mira can be the flower girl, Nick and Noah can carry rings…And this place, for us, it really is _perfect_…"

"Am I hearing…a yes?"

She looked back at him, their eyes colliding, blue and green. "I love you, Lucas Scott," she sighed, knowing they were words neither of them would ever tire of. "So yes, a thousand times yes," she laughed sweetly, her hand falling against his neck as she kissed him fiercely, yet another new beginning.


End file.
